Charactia Part 2: Alice
by RaptorWillms
Summary: Once she returns to Charactia, Gwen and the IMF gather new allies to capture Hannibal Lecter and the monsters in order to discover the motives behind their sinister appearances. However, Hannibal enthusiastically executes the next step in his plan, flanked by an unenthusiastic Morgana, and he is counting on Gwen's return. (Contains mild swearing, no gore, some blood)
1. Hotel Morning

The snow fell lightly past the tall windows of the lobby of The BOO (or the Overlook Hotel, if you were that kind of technical person).

The Captain sat on the right of a square hall with tall, red poles around the yellow tiled floor. He sat on the chair, typing on his jet-black typewriter, sitting over a model of the green hedged labyrinth in front of the hotel.

He sat next to tall windows where white sunlight streamed into the hall and he could see the very real maze looming through the silver mist.

The Captain typed away, just as he usually did, his receding brown hair messy on top, wearing grey and black in the form of a coat and sweater over a white shirt.

"The...hedges..." he muttered, his fingers blasting away at the keys of the typewriter, "are...green."

He stopped for a second. Ripped out the page. Inserted a new one. Cracked his fingers. Started again.

"The...hedges...are...lush," He stopped. Decided to keep going. "Lush...like...the...tops of...palm...trees. Palm...trees...like...bright...limes. Limes...like...a...go-light...on a...traffic light."

He stopped again. Cracked his wrists.

"Stoplights...are...emerald. Emerald...like...Emerald City," He licked his lips. "Yellow...brick...road..."

The red and windowed doors to the room burst open and Morgana Pendragon stormed in, her pale hands in fists.

"Captain!"

"As you can see, I'm a little busy at the moment," the Captain mumbled, now typing the words "Tin Man used to be a Man" across the page.

"As you can see, I don't care," Morgana hissed, standing next to the model, her hands on her hips. "Where is Krueger?"

"Who?"

"Come off it, you're not _that_ stupid,"

"Hey, listen," The Captain finally looked up from his typewriter and into the angry witch's white face. "I came down here for some peace and quiet and I'm feeling so attacked right now."

With the swipe of a long-nailed hand, Morgana ripped the paper from the typewriter and crumpled it into a ball. She held it before the Captain's eyes and it suddenly burst into flame. The ball of paper dissolved into ashes that Morgana sprinkled across the floor.

"You know, you ain't pretty. You just look that way," the Captain sighed, returning to his typewriter.

She was pretty. Despite having been a literal pile of bones the day before, Lady Morgana Pendragon was tall and pale with strong cheekbones, piercing emerald eyes, and dark hair that was pulled out of her eyes but wild across her shoulders. She wore a black gown and a solid silver necklace with a set of three swirls on the pendant.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?!" she cried. "I want to know where Krueger is!"

"I don't know who you're talking about. Oh, wait, are you talking about the Lieutenant?"

"Yes!"

"Oh, he went down to the pantry,"

"The what?"

"Um, the magical cold closet that keeps our food nice and frozen," the Captain sneered. "You calling _me_ stupid?"

"I'm from the Dark Ages, moron,"

"Without electricity? Yeah, I can see why it's called that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to waste valuable time,"

Morgana huffed and folded her arms. "Why did the Lieutenant go down to the pantry?"

"Tuning him out is impossible when I want answers as to how I've come back," Morgana spat.

"Uh-huh," Jack had decided to stop listening.

Rolling her eyes, Morgana glanced over at the other side of the room where there was a long buffet of elaborate, sugar-filled sweets including large chocolate cakes, lemon-merengue pies, and stacks of frosted cupcakes.

"Are those for this evening's dinner?" she inquired. The General Hannibal had already chased her into an elevator and handed her an OCD-riddled schedule of everything that occurred in the Overlook Hotel.

"Consider that breakfast, honey," Jack drawled.

Morgana considered it. She also considered stabbing Captain Jack Torrance in the neck where he sat.

The doors to the hall opened and the Lieutenant Fred Krueger strode in, stretching.

"Mornin',"

He was holding a yellow box under his right arm and approached the Captain and Morgana. There was a wide grin across his burnt face.

"Hey, Captain, do you want one of these deep-fried butter sticks I found in the pantry?"

"Is the pantry, by any chance, trying to kill you?" The Captain asked, hands pausing over his typewriter.

Krueger shrugged. "Alright, suit yourself. Hello, Morgana. Did you sleep alright after your little vision?"

"Who told you about that? That was supposed to be between Lecter and I!" Morgana snapped.

The Lieutenant sighed. He was much taller than her. Lanky and long-armed, his burned face was pointed beneath his dark fedora and his ugly red and green striped sweater hung on him like a curtain, strapped to his body by mere suspenders. His right hand was a complicated business, especially when it came to washing his face, as it had long Wolverine-like blades attached to a leather glove.

"Well, you know, since the General told the Tracker, things escalate. And it's difficult to hide the fact that you had a vision about three ancient seers telling you that there's an All-Knower here in Charactia who will destroy everything we've built," he said calmly.

Morgana stamped her foot. "Why did he tell Pennyflies?"

"Penny_wise_, kid. One can only assume he told the Tracker so that he could, you know, do his job and track the All-Knower Alice?"

"Perhaps if Lecter hadn't lost her in the first place, he hadn't needed to push the responsibility upon an inferior," Morgana said. "It's lazy."

"Eh. Pushing responsibilities because he's lazy is something the General eats for breakfast," the Lieutenant sighed. "Anyway, I wouldn't blame the Tracker for spilling your story. He got interrogated by the Secretary and I think she forced him to spill. Because...gossip, y'all."

"The Secretary smells drama better than better than Burton Guster smells crime," Jack groaned. "The Tracker's weak when it comes to keeping secrets and the Secretary's ruthless."

"She's the one covered in swine's blood, correct?" Morgana asked.

"Oh is that what that is? I thought it was spaghetti sauce," Jack said.

The Lieutenant did a slow turn on him.

"How in the world would anyone get covered in that much spaghetti sauce?"

"How in the world would anyone get covered in that much swine's blood?" the Captain asked.

Krueger rolled his eyes and opened his box of fried butter-sticks by dragging a long sharp finger across the top, slicing the cardboard latch in two. He shook his hand and gritted his teeth, holding out the box to Morgana.

"Last chance. These'll be gone by tonight,"

She shook her head and stormed across the room to where the table of vibrant sweets were. Krueger attempted the offer to Jack, who didn't even glance up while he said-

"Unlike you, I am not willing to risk my colon's health over those stupid things,"

"Wimp," Krueger sneered over his shoulder, making his way to the dessert table with a stiffly held Morgana.

"Die lonely," Jack hissed.

Morgana was examining a large pink cupcake when the Lieutenant reached the table. He set the box of butter-sticks down on the table and leaned against it with one hand on his hip. He smiled at the look of frustration on the witch's face.

"I don't want to be here," she snarled.

"I know. Unfortunately, I can't fix it,"

Giving him a sideways glare, Morgana peeled the vanilla cupcake wrapper in a circular motion.

"You know," Krueger whispered, "not everyone in this hotel is as friendly as I. And to be frank, I question how things are run just about every day. But what the General says is law and if he wants to capture this Alice kid, that's what we gotta do."

"The Disir gave me a warning that I am intended to uphold!" Morgana snarled through her teeth.

"Who's intending you to uphold it? The only one forcing you to uphold anything, sweetie, is you," Krueger said. "If you want a kingdom, if you want a portion of Charactia when we take it, then you have to do as we say. It's a good deal."

"Being a slave is not a good deal!"

"You've been here for literally six hours. Could you at least spend a week in this place before becoming so darn cynical? I don't trust anyone, kid, so I get it but-"

"You didn't wake up in a strange place being held against your will!" Morgana shouted.

Silence. The witch bit a part of the cupcake and said nothing as she placed the remaining pastry on the table. She glared up at the Lieutenant, her green eyes piercing with fury and murderous thoughts. Krueger blinked a few times and his yellow eyes glittered strangely at her remark.

"I wouldn't mind killing you at this moment," she whispered.

"What makes you think I couldn't kill you first?" Krueger said with a smirk.

"Because no mortal weapon can kill me,"

"Shall we test that theory?"

"I'm more powerful than anyone in this hellhole!"

"True, true, but there are more of us than there are of you. Yes, I am smart enough to do that math. Trust me, kid, this can be done the easy way or the hard way and I don't mind either one. This'll all pay off in the end! You can have whatever kingdom you want once we kill the Doctor and destroy the TARDIS,"

"I want Camelot! It belongs to ME!" Morgana screeched, stomping her foot.

"Excuse me?"

The Lieutenant wheeled around to see the General step through the door, hands folded behind his back, smiling dangerously with Anthony Hopkins' round nose, sticky-out ears, and intense blue eyed stare. His balding grey hair was slicked back as always.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything? Ah, look, pastries!"

He walked towards the table and began to closely examine everything on the table. Krueger and Morgana couldn't help but stare dumbfounded at him. Not because of how overly interested in the sweets he was being. But because this morning he was wearing a dark blue suit with thin red plaid designs, and a red and yellow plaid tie.

"What...is...that?" Krueger pointed to the suit.

"Oh this?" Hannibal straightened up and grinned at his new uniform. "Thought I'd try something new."

Morgana and Krueger slowly turned to look at one another with slightly unnerved expressions. The Lieutenant and all of the monsters in the army knew that the General had never anything either than his asylum uniforms unless it was formal night. And formal night wasn't until next Wednesday.

"Lady Morgana, how are you this morning?" the General questioned with the look of a professional creep. Morgana wrinkled her nose, baring her teeth.

"You've asked me this four times this morning, you stupid-"

"She's doing greeeaaaat!" Krueger interrupted quickly with a forced smile.

"Excellent. Help yourself to this, Lady, we've got unlimited supplies,"

Morgana stared daggers, fists clenched at her dress sides.

Hannibal pointed at Krueger lazily, taking a cupcake with his other. "I'd like to see you in my office, Lieutenant,"

This was met with a dramatic sigh. "Now?"

"Yes, now," Hannibal was still smiling and yet, he was snarling through his teeth.

The Lieutenant looked desperately to Morgana, who simply glared on. Krueger groaned at the ceiling but forced a pleasant look onto his scarred face.

"Yes, sir," Then, he added quickly- "I, uh, do love the suit!"

"Oh thank you!" Hannibal spoke loudly, obviously so Morgana would hear him. "It was mine in the 80s,"

Krueger gasped with a smile. "Aw! Vintage! So adorable!"

A smug look crossed the General's face as he turned and walked towards the door. "Thank you!"

Once Hannibal was out of earshot, Krueger ceased grinning and looked at Morgana with a look of boredom and disgust.

"That is the ugliest effing suit I have ever seen,"

Lecter's office was on the third floor in a former janitor's closet. This was mainly because any time Hannibal attempted to set up base in a hotel room, he came back to a trashed mess with a note from the Twins saying- "No one likes your stupid office,".

Krueger found in incredibly funny that his boss was trapped in a janitor's closet. In fact, the only two who didn't find it funny was butt-kissing Scout Michael Myers and Hannibal himself.

Except for the electrical cabinets and pipes, the walls were covered in various photos of people and locations (drawn by the General himself), newspaper clippings about serial killers, and several posters that analyzed the many systems of the human body.

Behind the dark oak desk (where the only things upon it was a single lamp, notebook, and tray of tall Chianti with two glasses) was leather black arm chair, and behind that was the bright neon pink Revenge Board.

The Revenge Board was plastered with graffitied pictures of Clarice Starling. The General had intended every one of his monsters to have a board with their archenemy on it, so that they may vandalize and take out their anger. However, everyone had been uninterested except for the Twins. But there was no way he was making them one.

Hannibal rounded the desk and sunk into the armchair, straightening his tartan tie. He gestured to the tiny metal stool on the other side and Krueger sat on it, knees up to his chest.

"We're out of ice cream," Lecter said with a frown.

"Oh geez, yeah. I noticed the pantry was running a little low when I went down there's three days ago. And you know, we just bought some new Chapman's mint and I'm telling you, those twins ate all of it," Krueger groaned. "So if we could buy some Rocky Road, the Tracker and I like that kind, that would be great-"

"Not that kind of ice cream, idiot. The special kind," Lecter rolled his big, blue eyes.

"Yeah, that mint was special! What is wrong with- Ohhhh. You mean _that_ ice cream," Krueger said nodding.

"Yes. After that little spill in the back of the Captain's car, we only had enough for Morgana. We need more and we need it quickly,"

"You want another resurrection? Already?" Krueger whispered. "We've barely broken through to Morgana and she's already handing out death threats! Which, might I add, is against the Tract-"

"I don't care about that bloody Tract," Hannibal barked.

"Then why did you sign it?!"

"So that the Captain would be, ah, less pissed at me about destroying his car,"

"By the way, I did get a call from one of the people who owned the car with the bumper you wrecked, and she's calling for insurance pretty hard-"

"Listen. I want more energy and I want it now,"

"The next electrical storm isn't due for another month! Even if we have the cream, we can't bring someone else back yet until all of the conditions are right," Krueger reminded.

"You've forgotten that we have Morgana," An evil smirk twisted Lecter's mouth. "Her, ah, abilities will give us the perfect conditions.

"You mean her magic,"

"We've been over this. There's no such thing as magic,"

"Yeah, okay,"

"What about the Carbonite?"

"Those stupid twins drained it all for Morgana,"

"Something needs to be done about them,"

"I agree. But until I figure out something brutal and satisfying enough, they have to stay,"

The General began to pour himself a tall glass of sparkling red wine. He offered the bottle to the Lieutenant, but Krueger politely held up a hand in decline.

"So where are we gonna get the rest of it?" he asked.

"Don't worry. I have that under control," The General said, sipping his wine and licking his lips.

"But you won't tell me,"

The smirk across the General's face widened. A more sarcastic one crossed Krueger's.

"Lieutenant. We're friends. Not brothers,"

"Friends don't lie,"

"Who said that?"

"I dunno. Some chick,"

Crossing his legs, Hannibal spun in his chair and examined a diagram on the human skeletal system.

"I have it all under control," he said.

Scowling, Krueger bit into a butter-stick and made sure to crunch it extra loudly between his teeth so that Hannibal eventually turned back and cleared his throat.

"The Tracker is going to keep an eye out for the All-Knower. His sewers stretch all the way around the city and he's got some backup as well,"

"Backup?"

"You know,"

"Oh yeah," Krueger grinned. "Now that. That's a plan I'm excited for."

"Exactly. Now, I want you to put together a group of soldiers and see if you can't wrangle up some more energy for the next resurrection. Take the Commander, he's been a tad anxious lately,"

"Did he tell you yet?" Krueger asked, crossing his arms. "About the person who somehow shot him backwards and bound my body together?"

"The mysterious powerful being who protected the All-Knower outside of the Subway?" Hannibal asked. "He filled me in that much but the bugger won't say anything else. I do have my suspicions though, but I can't prove my theory right until he says something."

"He's scared to,"

"He's Jason Vorhees. He's not supposed to be scared of anything!" Hannibal snapped.

"Everyone's afraid of something, you know. Even us, the definitions of fear," Krueger said. "Me? Salamanders. Are they frogs? Are they lizards? Like, what even-"

"Lieutenant,"

"But in all fairness. How can you expect me to follow your lead when you won't tell me anything?"

"Are you doubting me?" Hannibal grinned straight white teeth.

"Honestly, yes,"

"You have no choice but to trust me," The General turned cold and scowled. "I am your superior and I could give you to an angry Kodiak Bear with nothing but a watch and a flare and see how long you survive."

"Probably longer than you,"

"Just do as I said,"

"Sure thing," The Lieutenant rose to his feet, stretching. "Ice cream, new resurrection, group of soldiers. Got it."

"Hit a new Dairy Queen. That last one will be crawling with Starfleet officers,"

"Can I take Morgana?"

The General's eyebrows creased slightly and he clenched his wine glass. He held his mouth open for an moment before answering.

"No, I'm going to have her stay here. We cannot risk her trying to escape. I'm going to have the Scout speak to her,"

"Why not the Secretary? I mean, they're both ladies and they both seem like drama queens,"

"Because I have a separate job for her. A job you are not going to ask questions about because I am not going to answer,"

Krueger rolled his eyes heavily and turned away from the desk to exit the office. "Yeah, you're a real help, bro,"

He moved towards the door when it suddenly swung open and he was forced to skip backwards in order to prevent being whacked in the face.

Carrie White, the Secretary, sauntered in with her clipboard and pen, long strawberry blonde hair and silk pink prom dress soaked head-to-toe in dark red pig's blood. She had electric blue eyes, an upturned nose, freckles, and looked incredibly intimidating for a seventeen-year-old. She licked her lips and bounced on her heels.

"Well well," she whispered. "It appears I'm not the only one in the mood to talk with the man in charge. How nice."

"Oh piss off," Krueger snapped.

"Ooh. Not very nice," Carrie said.

"If you two want to kitty fight later, be my guest," Hannibal groaned. "But not here. We have business to attend to."

Carrie blew a kiss at Fred and sauntered towards Hannibal's desk, planting herself down on the stool, crossing her long slender legs. She pressed the end of her pen against the clipboard and grinned over her shoulder.

"Bye bye, sweetie. You won't be missed," she sneered.

Hannibal's lips thinned, his eyebrows traveled up his forehead. It was very obvious that even he was not completely on board with being in a room alone with the Secretary and her drama-induced ways.

But the serious expression the General was giving off went to show that this was a matter of business. Business not even the Lieutenant was allowed to listen in on.

Hesitantly, Krueger allowed his legs and better judgement to exit the closet, giving one more nasty glare at the Secretary and General alike.

But Hannibal called for him.

"Oh, and Lieutenant, if you really hate the suit, you could've just said so then trying to flatter me. Lies will only have you digging your own grave." He winked.

Krueger smirked and slammed the door behind him and pressed against its outside, clutching his box of deep-fried butter stick. He stared into the long hotel hallway ahead of him, his mind still boggled at the ugly orange and brown geometric carpet.

What did it mean when your best friend and superior officer started keeping secrets from you? Clearly nothing good. Krueger drummed his blades on the box and they made galloping, dull thuds. Obviously, he was going to have to play whatever game the General was playing.

He was going to do his one job and he was going to do it well. But, he was going to do it by his standards. Not that he ever did anything by the book anyway. Being the best friend of the General meant he usually got away with his more detailed and bizarre plan.

He hummed quietly to himself and started down the hallway in front of him. He saw a sudden blur of sky blue, and tiredly called out- "Go back to the hole you came from,"

From down the other hall, the Twins- fully decked out in their lacy blue dresses and pink ribbons- stuck out their tongues simultaneously, sliding black, reflective shades onto their faces. They did a perfectly synchronized pinwheel turn and disappeared down another hall.


	2. Blue Boxes and Gold Latinum

Two weeks before Gwen MacMillan arrived in Charactia, the rain pounded hard against the windshield of the RV and the wind shook it back and forth.

Martin, dark-skinned and Mexican, bobbed his head back and forth to the Spanish dubstep on the radio while his strange companion sat in the passenger seat, gazing silently out the window.

The two had been driving for a half an hour already and yet, there had been no conversation between the two of them. Not that Martin had any sort of problem with that. The hooked nosed, greasy-haired, gaunt man in the black coat and robes frightened him. Out of all the strange creatures that had entered he and Diana's diner, this man had been by far the strangest.

For Martin, if a dangerous person entered his diner, he wanted to be able to _see_ that they were dangerous. He wanted to see the claws, the fangs, the scales, the beady yellow eyes. This man looked very human, but there was an air around him that was very inhuman.

The only physically dangerous thing about this man was the fact that his eyes were jet black which, to Martin, seemed to be some kind of birth defect.

If someone looked human, but didn't feel the way humans felt, Martin found them terrifying. No matter if they had a cold or not.

Sitting in silence with a man who may snap and and grow fangs at any minute scared Martin worse than saying something potentially wrong. Every once in a while, the man would sniffle and it would cause Martin to have a mini-heart attack.

He cleared his throat and fingered the steering wheel.

"You, uh, going to eat something?"

The strange black-haired man looked down at his lap where there was the white bag of diner food. He merely blinked and looked back out the window.

"You know- once you reach outpost, you'll have to deal with Ferengi on your own," Martin said quietly.

Silence. Sniffle.

"They are...manipulative. I should warn you. They look at money and would give their families for it,"

"I have met the type,"

The man's deep voice and thick English accent cut through the dark cockpit like an icy sword, made scarier by the hoarse undertone.

"You've...met Ferengi?"

"No," the man said, barely moving his lips. "But I have met those who would trade all of the beings of the Earth if they could have power over it all."

Martin nodded.

"Only Earth? There are so many other planets,"

A crease appeared between the man's brow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Well, there are many galaxies, you see. Many futures. Solar systems. Our Milky Way is not only one," Martin explained, shrugging. "Take Ferengi for instance. They are people from the planet Ferenginar, far out in other galaxy."

"Are you trying to tell me," the man said slowly, looking at Martin. "that there really are...live beings from other planets?"

"We had this discussion in diner, remember? You told us that you had met Martians!"

"I didn't realize-" He rolled his eyes and closed them, deciding not to continue.

"Well, just about everyone knows about aliens, it's been something we've known since very long time ago. There are many futures of Charactia that correspond with our present and past. At least, that's what I've heard. The Ferengi come from one of our futures, a future where we establish government with bunch of planets," Martin said. "There are new galaxies and futures all appearing every day, new pasts, new Characters."

"Characters?"

"Significant people who have shaped Charactia and its futures. There are also timelines within Charactia. At least, I think so. How could there be more than one Spider-Man anyhow?"

Martin laughed at his joke but the man did not. Not just from confusion, but because he didn't like laughing.

The man's head began to throb a bit harder from hearing this and he was unable to tell whether it was from his head-cold or not.

"And you expect me to believe all of this?"

"Everyone knows it,"

"Then why don't I?"

"You told us that you met Martians! How did you not realize they were from Mars?"

"It's your bloody medicine," the man grumbled, shivering slightly at the memory of the Tylenol taste. He had probably taken two swallows of it while in the RV and it had been making him woozy.

"That must be it. You've never had that medicine before, Mr..."

"Snape. Professor Snape. For goodness sake, could you pay attention for once?"

"Snape is a...weird name,"

"So is Martin,"

"No...not really..."

"You expect me to believe all of that...ridiculous timeline rubbish and the fact that it is somehow 2018?"

"It IS 2018,"

Snape scoffed. "Please. Last time I checked, it was 1998,"

This statement disturbed Martin very much and he decided not to talk anymore. Everything about this man was unnatural and he really did not want to know much more.

Diana would've scolded him for believing this but a part of Martin really believed that this Snape man had killed someone before. He didn't know why he thought this but there was something in Snape's demeanour that told him someone had died by his hand.

On the other hand, Snape didn't mind the silence between them as he had no time for Muggles and disliked human interaction. However, he hadn't had much interaction with anyone the past few months and a side of him felt comfortable being in the presence of someone who didn't want to jab him with electrical batons.

Snape hated the emotional side of himself more than he hated the rest of himself.

At some point, he dozed off against the window and Martin was left banging his head to Cuban music with heavy drums, the pattering of rain sliding down the windshield.

It was another half an hour of driving. Snape began to mutter uneasily in his sleep and his hands plucked at his cloak.

Martin stopped singing to himself the second he realized that his passenger was having some sort of nightmare but he was too frightened to wake him, afraid of how the man might react if someone were to jerk him during whatever disturbing images he was seeing.

Snape eventually awoke on his own with a jerk against the window but Martin pretended not to notice, especially when the man began to curse angrily and hiss- "Not again,".

It was a relief to both of them when the outpost finally came into view. It wasn't difficult to miss. Through the rain, it's vibrant neon lights flashed out at them, filling the walls of the round and domed building.

"Here we are," Martin announced. They pulled into the dirt parking lot before the outpost.

The mere second the RV stopped moving, Snape grasped his bag of food and medicine, pushing the door open, and exited the vehicle.

He slammed the door and Martin watched him enter the open outpost door where gold light streamed out across the muddy parking lot.

He was gone, just like that.

"Well, you're welcome," Martin whispered to himself in Spanish. He was torn between leaving him there or waiting to see what became of him.

"Crap," he whispered and shut off the RV. His compassionate side took over and he chose the latter.

The 'outpost' was a bar. Not just any bar, but a large and brightly lit casino bar. It was also incredibly loud.

Snape wiped his runny nose as he entered the noisy bar with several layers to the floor, tall golden patterned walls, orange bannisters, and purple orb lights lining a high up balcony, equally filled with people. He observed the situation. The drinking, the gambling, the pickpocketing.

The thing that truly stood out to him was how all of these people looked so...different. There were women with blue skin and antennae, men with a thin bone structure over their mouths, burly men with ridged foreheads and impressive beards, and women with pointed ears and eyebrows.

Everyone was dressed so colourfully, interacting so deeply. Everything was bright, happy, blissful, stylish, laid-back, and vibrant.

This caused Snape to stick out like a sore thumb.

He was well aware, as he neared the bar counter, that eyes were beginning to follow him. To him, everyone in this room seemed surgically altered (he had learned about surgery from an unfortunate source he did not want to think about) and outcasted.

To everyone else, the true eyesore was the depressed-looking man with unkept hair and black, strict clothes.

The Bar was a gathering place for men of the same kin. In an instant, Snape knew these were the Ferengi. Short, bald, huge eyes that stuck from the sides back from their eyebrows, wrinkled noses, brightly decorated suits. They were deep in conversation, hissing through their sharp teeth.

"-and so we have a deal with the newest Gul of the Cardassian Empire. Really quite spectacular," one was saying.

"You'd need three days of space travel to get to Cardassia from here!"

"Oh please. With the technology those pilots from Correllia established-"

"For the last time, hyperspeed is nothing compared to warp!"

Snape felt his heart drop into his stomach and he swallowed a lump in his throat. That stupid Muggle had been right. These people were extra-terrestrials. These were aliens.

The thing was, Snape _had_ seen Martians, but what he neglected to tell Martin was that he had only seen _photographs_ of Martians. He hadn't believed that they were real creatures. The photographs were used as an experiment on him so the images of the Ice Warriors caused him anxiety any time he thought of them.

How could the Muggles have made contact with new species? The last time he had checked, they had never done anything like this. The last time he checked, the Muggles were being massacred- hunted- the world was burning. His world was burning-

"Um, can we help you, Humon?"

Snape blinked back to life to see all five Ferengi at the bar staring at him. He drew himself up and opened his mouth to say something intimidating but he sneezed instead.

The light of the tall orange wall behind the bar flickered and the Ferengi all jumped.

One Ferengi, a Ferengi with eyes lined with purple mascara, laughed heartily.

"That's impressive! Did you do that-"

"Don't ask me that!" Snape cried suddenly with a glare.

The Ferengi men blinked.

Snape took in a steady breath as best he could through his swollen nose and straightened up again.

"Which one of you ugly trolls are in charge here?"

The Ferengi's grinned crooked teeth at one another, sniggering nastily before turning back to Snape.

The Ferengi with purple eyeliner clapped his hands, sauntering out from behind the counter.

"You're in luck, my good sir. I'm Quark, I happen to in charge here and I've got a sale on two spins at the Dabo Table if you wager-"

"Oh quiet yourself. All I want is to get out of this desert," Snape interrupted shortly.

The Ferengi grinned up at Snape evilly, but it had no affect as he only came up to Snape about mid-waist.

"We have plenty of options to head to the nearest city of Phoenix including-"

"Phoenix?" Snape said quickly, cocking an eyebrow. "Did you just say Phoenix?"

"Yes sir, very respectable city. Lots of money to give and wonderful clubs with some very desirable-"

"You can take me to this Phoenix?"

Quark began to laugh back at his friends, who also began to 'hur hur hur' with nasty smirks. Though Snape couldn't figure out what they found so amusing and their laughs made him want to Crucio them right there at the bar.

"It's not that simple, Mister," Quark sighed.

"Professor," Snape barked. "Professor Snape."

"Whatever. Anyway, you gotta offer something up as collateral!" Quark laughed. "I can't just give you a free passage to Phoenix! What will you give me in return?"

The last sentence repeated itself in Snape's head, his stomach being stabbed with an invisible knife. The bar temporarily morphed into the dark cliff of a hill where a white-bearded man in long robes stood over him with a look of disgust, asking-

"_What will you give me in return?"_

It was the night that changed Snape's life forever simply by uttering that one, desperate word-

"_Anything,"_

He shook his head slightly, snapping himself out of the setback and blinked, focusing back on Quark's annoying face still gazing up at him. He glared.

"What do you want?" he said.

"Now we're talking!" Quark cheered. "Why don't we have a seat and talk about what you have to offer?"

"No,"

"Well then... Let me buy you a drink!"

"No,"

"You're a right ray of sunshine, aren't you?" Quark said. He dropped his hands to the sides. Then, he smirked. "You remind me of a particularly nosy constable I used to know. And you know, I can't make a deal with you unless you're willing! And willing means a personal discussion with a personal offer!"

"I am very sorry to disappoint you but I am not a personal man," Snape said. "I do not care about you or lust for profit. All I want is to leave this god-forsaken place."

He sniffled and Quark held his hands up.

"Very sorry, Professor Sneep-"

"Snape,"

"Whatever. I'm sorry, but those are the rules. Unless you have something, er, worth my while, I can't give you anything," Quark laughed. "I- I'm sorry. This hurts me more than it hurts you."

There was a short silence between them and Snape stared down his hooked nose. He stared unblinkingly into Quark's annoying cheerful eyes and focused hard.

He could feel the diabolical layers of Quark's mind and the walls set up very carefully by them. They were strongly fortified and very difficult. But, still staring, Snape pushed his mind through Quark's walls and found all of his thoughts and memories easily at his disposal.

"Still desperate to make a name for yourself?" Snape asked coldly.

It was incredible how Quark could somehow laugh about everything, even if he wasn't sure what he was laughing about.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Slowly, Snape bent over and whispered-

"If you're hoping that this one extension of your bar will be one of a many, in hopes to make a larger name for yourself and own your own set of moons, I'm afraid that making difficult deals with outsiders is very much going to hurt your cause. Especially when it comes to humans,"

The smile on Quark's face finally faded to frowning shock.

"What did you just say?"

"Please," Snape snarled under his breath. "You don't need to act so stupid, you do that quite fine on your own. I am also very aware that you have cheated Mr Gork out of a deal you made four months ago. There is no requested coaxium, is there?"

"Who told you about that?" Quark demanded, glancing over his shoulder fearfully as the other Ferengis were beginning to become curious at the hushed meeting.

"How I know does not matter. All that matters is that I know and unless you'd like me to alert Mr Gork early about your lack of coaxium..."

"Is that a threat?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

Quark and Snape sized each other up carefully, silently, testily. Finally, the Ferengi laughed and waggled a finger.

"Well sir! You certainly drive a hard bargain!" He said this loudly and looked over his shoulder when he said it. "If you would follow me to the back hangar..."

His eyes darted from side to side and Snape hesitated. Then, he followed Quark him across the bar side to a shadowed archway in the back, giving a look of venom to the other Ferengi men as he passed.

Snape was relieved to leave cheers and bright colours of the bar left behind them. He was much more comfortable in the long dark corridor he stalked behind Quark.

To hide the look of surprise on his face when he saw the hangar actually proved quite difficult. Inside the dimly lit and sandstone hangar were machines of such impressive design, Snape's jaw dropped ever so slightly. He had no idea Muggles could be so...resourceful and intelligent.

"Well, we mainly have Starfleet supplied roundabouts, those are the small ones. I have bad memories of those, you understand- and we have some Ferengi cruisers in the corner, those are the purple ones- there's a Klingon cargo carrier in the other room-" Quark droned, waving his hand to each machine as they passed through the hangar.

"Yes but... What are they, exactly?" Snape breathed.

"What- What are they? You- You can't be serious!" Quark laughed but ceased to upon seeing the curled lips on Snape's white face. He cleared his throat, folding his hands behind his back. "Well, these are spaceships."

"These? They...fly to space?" They looked so much different from the moon-landing photographs he had seen.

"Precisely,"

"And...one can take me to this Phoenix bird city?"

"Well, it's just called 'Phoenix' but...'Phoenix Bird' works great! Listen, I've got a nice small roundabout out back, lemme see what it's got in it for energy,"

Snape opened his mouth to ask another question but Quark had already bounded away down the aisle between two ships.

He swallowed and coughed, examining the two ships that sat on either side of him. Cautiously, as if it may come to life at any second, Snape moved to the right and ran his fingertips down the side of the ship.

He recoiled backwards at its cold surface but, timidly, he lowered his palm onto the side.

Metal. Real, solid, smooth metal. Somehow, without magic, these Muggles had created metallic ships that could take them to the farthest reaches of the galaxy... something wizards were still barely comprehending.

He was finding it difficult to believe that while he was still studying exactly why Jupiter was where it was, Muggles had already figured out how to visit there.

Seeing all of these non-magical artefacts caused Snape's stomach to knot and he suddenly felt very homesick.

He drew his hand away and scowled spitefully at the ship, as if it would be offended.

"I've seen better models but I will admit, that is a nice ship,"

Snape's head snapped to the left and he dropped the white diner bag in horror, it's contents rolling onto the sandy floor.

Leaning against another ship parked behind the roundabout Snape had touched stood a tall, lanky man with wild hair, a tooth-filled grin that stretched from ear to ear, and a brown suit with blue pinstripes and a blue tie.

Barty Crouch Jr.

A million images of cold and sucking Dementors, the contorted and stretched face of Mad-Eye Moody, and the slurping sound of a flicking tongue flashed through Snape's head all at once like exploding Christmas lights. His hand plunged into his robes, whipping out his wand.

"You," he snarled. "You shouldn't have your soul."

Crouch's eyes went wide and he stuck his hands into the air. "Woah, woah! What are you talking about?"

"Don't you dare play stupid with me!" Snape barked, advancing on the man steadily, fury coursing through his veins. "I know what you've done- I know your story- And you know mine- you bloody well know mine-"

"I'm just looking for a mechanic, mate!" the man cried. "My ship broke down and I need- a- mechanic!"

"What the hell is a mechanic?" Snape spat. "Tell me."

"What's a m- What's a mechanic?" the man shouted. "Goodness, what planet are you from?"

"I know bloody well what a mechanic is. But YOU don't, which is why I'm asking-

"-And what's with the little stick-"

"It's a wand, you blithering idiot!" Snape yelled. "You have one too! Or was yours snapped when your pitiful little soul was kissed from your body?"

The man squinted. "What?"

There was a slight pause between them when suddenly, Crouch's hands grasped his spiky hair and he grinned wildly. Snape twitched at the movement but the man held out his arms, bouncing on his toes.

"I can't believe it!" he squealed. His voice had gone very high-pitched. "You're Severus Snape! Really Severus Snape! The real deal! My, you're taller than I imagined! Well, taller than was described- well- taller than was at first assumed."

Snape lowered his wand slightly. The man would not cease talking.

"I can't believe it!" he squealed. His voice had gone very high-pitched. "You're Severus Snape! Really Severus Snape! The real deal! My, you're taller than I imagined! Well, taller than was described- well- taller than was at first assumed."

Snape lowered his wand slightly. The man would not cease talking.

"You know, I've read all about you and I must say you are a complicated man. I have so many questions and so little time- Well, I suppose I could have as much time as I wanted but-"

"If you desire to walk out of this place in one piece, I suggest you start telling me the truth," Snape barked.

The man that looked exactly like Barty Crouch Jr shoved his hands into his pockets. "Can't you read minds?"

"Ex- Excuse me?"

"You're a Legilimens! Can't you simply interpret my emotions and see if I'm lying?"

Snape was silent at this. He did not let the scowl waver from his face, and concentrated hard on the man's smiling eyes. He reached out into the man's mind, hissing the incantation in his head.

What he saw made absolutely no sense to him. What he saw were nine other faces- though still the same man before him- with hundreds of bizarre and wild worlds with galaxies that were layered with new eras.

He could see the universe. The entire universe.

The most vivid memory he could place himself inside was a copper desert, where staring up in wonder at enormous glass bubbles that encased jagged copper cities, stretching up towards the pleasant blue sky.

Inside the man's head there was no name, though there were many names. Snape wasn't even sure it counted as a name, or simply sat as a title.

Pulling out from the strange array of memories, Snape blinked and found himself staring into the Doctor's grinning face.

Snape frowned. "Who are you?"

"All those memories and you don't know?"

"Don't be smart!" Snape spat.

"I really can't help it, you know,"

"How did you do that? Those memories can't be yours. You are Barty Crouch Jr. Your soul- it was-"

"This is perfect," the Doctor sighed, still grinning all those white teeth. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "This is really spectacular. I could really use your help."

"My- my help?"

"If you could follow me please?"

"Ex-Excuse me? What-"

But the Doctor had spun on his heel and was bouncing back down the aisle between the ships. He turned right and slipped into a crack between two other ships. Glancing over his shoulder for Quark, Snape followed him.

Both men were quite thin enough (Snape to an unhealthy degree) to shimmy through cracks between the ships. Snape was able to walk fast where the Doctor had to jog.

They made their way through the hangar down two more aisles before both men paused midway through an aisle.

"Here we are! My ship!"

The Doctor smiled Snape, half expecting the other man to ask about the dark blue police box that sat before them. Snape merely cocked his head to the side and said-

"Well this is extraordinarily average, isn't it?"

"What do you mean? It's a police box! How's it average?"

"Amongst these useless contraptions, this box is the most normal thing I've seen in a very long time," Snape shrugged. "Why? Were you not prepared for me to dislike something you're so fond of? You should become used to that. I dislike most things in this miserable universe."

"You haven't seen most things in this universe at all!" the Doctor cried. "I know your life's been rubbish but-"

"What could you possibly know about my life?!"

"Well," the Doctor said, folding his arms. "I know enough. Shall we take a look inside?" He was gesturing to the police box.

Carefully, his eyes reduced to slits, Snape pointed his wand at the Doctor's head. "You first,"

"With pleasure!" The Doctor bounced towards the front door of the blue box and pushed the door in, galavanting inside.

Snape sniffled and stalked after him.

To any other human, creature, or being, the sight of the blue box's inside would've shaken them in an instant. Snape was indeed shocked but almost pleasantly. For on the outside, the box looked as though it held barely enough room for one person. However, on the inside, it was a wide circular room with white circular lights lining its walls, tree branch-like posts protruding from around the grated platform, sitting at the end of the ramp before them. There was a circular control panel in the center of the platform, a pumping aqua light shooting up from its top. Everything in the box's interior was a light caramel colour with a blue tinge from the light.

The Doctor leaned against the left bannister of the ramp as the professor stared around at the room. Snape's jaw dropped and he lowered his wand at the sight of the wide room. There was only one way an interior could be expanded like this...

He spun on the Doctor, raising his wand again.

"You lied to me!"

The Doctor dramatically rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go. Look, you saw my memories! You know who I am!"

"Then how can you possibly explain this? Something like this- this room- is only possible through magic!"

"Sorry but nope!" The Doctor bounded up the ramp and shoved his hands in his pockets, gazing up at the blue light. "This is the TARDIS,"

"The what?"

"The TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension In Space and-"

"What is this?"

Snape had approached the console and was suddenly intrigued by the knobs and dials across it. He bent over them, prodding them with his wand and turning them.

"Ah! No! Don't- don't do that!" The Doctor waved his hands and jogged over to him.

He reached over to pry Snape's hand away from the computer monitor that swung around the computer, when Snape looked up and gave the most venomous scowl he muster

"Tell me the truth or I'll continue to examine this in ways you will forevermore be sorry about," he threatened. "This is magic!" -he gestured to the room- "This is Muggle!"- he gestured to the console- "So explain how the two are meshed into one space?"

"I think that you would be best to explain that," the Doctor said coolly.

This took Snape off guard. His face fell and his eyes went wide. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me. Now, unless you want me to bring up your blood status again, I suggest you listen to what I have to say,"

The bitter scowl returned to Snape's face and he felt something hot, violent, bubbly in the pit of his stomach. He felt as though he was going to be sick but vomit dangerous curses rather than his empty juices.

His silence gave the Doctor the green light.

"This is the TARDIS. It's my ship. Technologically advanced beyond the ways of man's tiny and funny little brains. With this, I can travel through all of time and space. Anywhere I want, and in the case of a surprise- anywhere I need to be,"

"You can travel anywhere you desire?" Snape had a gnawing in the pit of his stomach, and not just from hunger.

"Anywhere. Any time,"

"And...you know who I am?"

"Of course! A while back I visited a world where you are incredibly famous. And I am incredibly famous,"

"Was this place...in Scotland, by any chance?"

"I wish. I love Scotland. Feels like a second home,"

Snape's heart sank and it caused him to scowl harder. "Tell me...Doctor. If you are who you say you are, why is it that you have the exact face someone I knew?"

"Well," the Doctor stared at the ceiling. "When I discovered you, in a world where those know you, I discovered someone else. I liked his face, I suppose. So my subconscious chose it."

Snape fought the urge to wipe his nose while all the same time trying to figure out how a man could choose his face without being a Metamorphmagus. The Doctor clapped his hands together.

"Well! That brings me to my next question!"

"You never asked a first one,"

"Well, I'm going to ask it now. Professor, is there any way you could fix the TARDIS down below? My sonic screwdriver doesn't seem to be working,"

He pulled out a long silver stick with a blue end that

illuminated with a whirring sound. Snape's eyes widened and looked at his wand, stricken by their similarities. He frowned.

"Why should I help you?"

"I can cure your cold,"

"I'm not sick,"

"You're a great liar, I must say. If I were blind, there'd be no way I'd be able to tell you were ill. Listen, if you go beneath the console, I can bring you my medicine. Deal?"

It was a deal. Although Snape knew the risks of a strange man bringing him random medicine, he was desperate to have his nose stop leaking and his throat stop burning.

Underneath the console, beneath the grated floor, was a curved underbelly that allowed him to lie beneath a forest of wires and bizarre Muggle tools, tapping them with his wand and muttering spells one at a time.

But only after he drank the pill the Doctor handed him and he finished examining the primitive but fascinating Muggle artefacts.

He was almost angry that his left nostril had cleared up halfway through his work, because he had been looking forward to reprimanding the Doctor of being a fraud. But the medicine worked and suddenly, the pounding headache behind Snape's eyes and his sweating vanished.

He didn't particularly like lying underneath a- a- whatever he was lying underneath. But it was a lot better than what he had left behind.

At about the twentieth wire he had enchanted, a huge whirring sound erupted from above him.

"There we are!" the Doctor shouted. "She sounds fantastic!"

Snape somehow managed to clamber out from underneath the jungle of wires and mount the stairs back up to the console level, where the Doctor had returned to flipping switches on the control panel.

Snape watched on silently. The Doctor placed his hand on one large lever before he turned to face the other man.

"Anywhere you'd like to go?"

Yes. Hogwarts. But Snape didn't dare speak that out loud. He was not going to take the chance that this man may not know about the magical school. No matter how much the Doctor- if that was even his name- claimed he knew about Snape, there was an odd chance this really could be Barty Crouch Jr and currently- Snape was not taking any chances with a mad scientist after him.

But he did answer.

"As far away from this desert as possible,"

"Describe?"

"On this planet. As far as you can take me,"

The Doctor shrugged and smiled. "Alrighty then," He turned a few more knobs and tightened his grip on the largest lever. "Allons-y!"

There was a sudden low thud, followed by a grinding noise once the Doctor pulled down the lever. Snape looked up at the ceiling- startled- as the light in the center of the console began to bob up down- the whirring filling the whole room.

"What are you-"

"We're travelling! I'm taking you to New York!"

"New- New York? Couldn't we head to- to London?"

"I see London every week! Time for a change! And you didn't say London!"

Snape clenched his teeth together and scowled at the Doctor's back, who was watching the light in the center with his hands in his pockets. After glaring for four or five seconds, Snape supposed that New York was possibly the best place for him. Dr Natalie Brenner would expect him to try and return to Britain. It would only make sense for him to throw her off.

The whirring had stopped and the light came to a slow before a full stop. The room jerked slightly and the Doctor spun around and began to jog back down the ramp.

"Here we are!"

Cautiously, taking one long and spiteful look at the interior of the TARDIS, Snape followed down the ramp where the door was open a crack. What he saw outside the blue box took him completely off guard and caused his head to spin.

The box had completely moved. It was no longer settled in the dingy Ferengi hangar surrounded by silver spaceships. Instead, they were standing in an enormous opening of downtown New York City, where screen and posters of ads shone down the dark and there were blaring traffic horns at every corner.

It was still late at night and yet, everyone seemed to be awake. To Snape, he felt as though he had just Apparated...without actually Apparating.

"What do you think?" the Doctor asked with a sly smile.

Snape chose to say nothing. He was far from Arizona and far from the lab. He stepped out of the TARDIS and analyzed the downtown with awe. So this was what a Muggle city really looked like. Everything felt so...loud and artificial.

"It's...different,"

"What kind of different?"

"I'm not sure yet and I don't think it's any of your business,"

"Listen," The Doctor reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash, handing it to the wizard- who stared at it as though it were the real live Hopping Pot. "Find a rent room, hand half of that to the owner. Should cover you for about a week."

"What- What then?"

"Get a job or something. I don't really know how Earth professions work, to be honest. Unless they have to do with space. I'm good with space,"

"Is this- money?"

"Yup,"

Snape nodded and tucked the cash in his pocket, as well as his wand. The Doctor then pulled out a small slip of paper.

"My number. Take it- I don't give it to just anyone. For really big emergencies,"

Snape did take it, but did not plan on ever using it. The Doctor smiled.

"You'll be alright?"

"I've done much worse than navigate a primitive Muggle city," Snape scoffed. "I don't need anymore help."

"If you say so. Call if you need anything at all. Good luck,"

And with that, the Doctor disappeared back into the TARDIS, the door closing with a satisfying squeak. Snape blinked and watched- frozen- as the blue box whirred and grinding once again- fading away into nothing.

Nobody seemed to notice. Although, that was usually how Muggles were. Snape stood there, in the center of Downtown Manhattan, staring at nothing. He glanced around the bizarre, nearly alien world, and tried to figure out where to go from there.

First things first. An apartment. Then he was not going to rest until he found a way back to Hogwarts and aid in the fight against Voldemort- perhaps become an agent again- maybe not-

He swallowed a rush of fear when he saw the unfamiliarity of the world and set off to the right, stepping directly into the street without hesitation- examining the cars with an air of pride that no wizard had ever indulged in something as clunky as these.

The drivers, who were forced to slam their breaks on the man in the black cape who stared with slight madness in his eyes, all decided amongst their own thoughts that this man was still not as weird as the enormous gorilla that had done the same thing back in the 40s.


	3. The Shower Scene

It was the first time Gwendolyn MacMillan had ever been interrogated by a cop before, and it was revving up her anxiety, bad.

Of course, the adrenaline rush she felt was not nearly as bad as when she was being chased through a mall by Jason Vorhees.

The RCMP officer arrived at the MacMillan household the morning after Gwen had arrived home, after she had mysteriously disappeared until around three in the morning.

She barely slept the previous night, even with the company of her parents and younger sister, out of fear and excitement. She knew the officer would be there the next morning and she couldn't decide whether or not she should tell them the truth. That she had discovered another universe where movies and pop culture were real.

After accidentally hopping on the wrong bus home, Gwen had found herself in a version New York City on an different Earth An Earth in an alternate reality called Charactia- where pretty much every form of pop culture somehow existed together.

The discovery had come with mixed emotions. Being the avid geek she was, meeting Ethan Hunt, Dr Ian Malcolm, and Supergirl caused her to giggle every time she thought about it. But those memories led to the negative encounters where she discovered her worst fear- Hannibal Lecter- was alive and was leading a gang of horror movie characters for...some reason. Some reason that involved robbing a Dairy Queen.

Anyone that attempted to describe in their fanfiction how terrifying Hannibal Lecter, Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees, and that girl from the Ring were had obviously never met them.

If you had seen plenty of horror films (whereas Gwen had never even seen one), imagine the terror you had while experiencing these characters. Now, take that terror and chuck it down your nearest Death Star garbage chute because they were a hundred times worse.

When she was laying awake with her family around her in her parents bedroom, she remembered every detail of those monsters. But then she remembered all the great things that came out of meeting them.

For starters, she had found out that the Upside-Down was still around and so was the Demogorgon. She was now a consultant for the Impossible Mission Force. She had met Ethan Hunt, Supergirl, Dr Ian Malcolm, Benji Dunn, and...

Snape.

Professor Severus Snape.

It didn't seem real. When she looked at him, no matter how hard he scowled at her- no matter how loud he yelled at her- it was like some sort of dream. She stared at the darkened ceiling and she couldn't stop thinking about him. About their interaction. About the fact that he looked almost exactly like Alan Rickman, and yet different enough to be a completely unique man. Like a perfect mix of his novel and film characterization.

About the fact that he was alive. Alive but sick. Sick, lost, confused, starving, sleep deprived. He had somehow woken up in a science lab. That was the last thing he told her before he threw her out.

She had been ordered by Ethan to return to the IMF that Saturday, early in the morning. It was no question that she planned to visit Snape. This time, hopefully, with something for him to eat.

But it was a question of whether she _really_ wanted to return to Charactia. Half of her had no doubt in wanting to return and give her duties to the IMF. But returning meant going back into the world where Hannibal was waiting. And she wasn't sure she was prepared for that.

After a night of barely any sleep, hard contemplation and anxiety, the RCMP arrived at six the next morning before school. Gwen got dressed as quickly as she could manage and her parents sat with her at the kitchen table, which was where the questioning took place.

It was the first time she had really lied. And worst of all, she had lied to the police officer. Her anxiety- nearly at its peak- and her sense of honesty was almost holding her back as she told the cop was had 'really' happened.

She said that she had ended up on the wrong bus and wound up in a place she didn't even know existed or how to locate. She had been saved from a gang of criminals by someone who looked like Tom Cruise and an upholder of the law escorted her to the correct bus.

What she told them was true...from a certain point of view.

While she sat in the kitchen alone after the interview, the RCMP officer spoke with both of her parents in the living room. From what she could hear, the officer was not completely convinced with Gwen's story though he did say that it was normal for her to be in shock. Especially with her disorder.

Once the officer had left, Gwen played with her cereal nervously while her parents stood at the other end of the kitchen table. David (a tall man with a well-cut jawline and Gwen's blue eyes) and Nellie (shorter woman with short brown hair and large glasses) both had their arms folded.

"Why didn't you call me?" Mrs MacMillan whispered.

"You wouldn't pick up," Gwen said. And that was the truth.

"There was no record of you calling me anywhere on my phone!"

"I did call you. I called you a hundred times! I swear!" Gwen cried. Mr MacMillan raised a hand for his daughter to quiet down and she did.

"Gwen, you're absolutely certain your mother would not pick up?"

"How could I not be?" Gwen asked, her eyes wide.

"Nell, your phone hadn't died, had it?"

"It was at 86% last time I saw it,"

"I called you!" Gwen protested. "I swear it!"

Her parents glanced at one another while Gwen tried to piece it all together. She had called more times than she was able to count but her mother hadn't seen any of the calls. It was possible to call Nova Scotia from New York City so how come it hadn't worked there?

Her mind worked it out while her parents were whispering amongst themselves. Yes, it was possible to call Canada from New York City. But it was clearly not possible to call a Canada located in another dimension.

After both exhaling long and hard, the MacMillan parents faced their daughter with a newfound sympathetic expression. Mrs MacMillan sat down at the table and took Gwen's hands.

"I'm sorry, love. You look like you had a hard time yesterday and this isn't helping,"

In her mind, Gwen saw Ethan Hunt cut Hannibal's cheek with a plastic knife. Her mom had no _idea_ the time she'd had yesterday.

She opened her mouth and every character name she had laid eyes on sat on her tongue- one in particular drank Chianti and the other brewed potions. But she said nothing. She even blinked back tears. Those characters still seemed fantastical.

"Listen," Mrs MacMillan whispered, not doing as well to hold back her own tears. "After school, when you come home, we'll do something fun. Okay? We'll go out to Boston Pizza or watch a movie. Sound good?"

A movie.

They were no longer just creations made by man. They were living, breathing, real things. If anything, they were encyclopedias for her to prepare when she returned to Charactia. If she ever did go back. She was terrified to go back, to fight those who embodied her worst nightmares. And yet, the excitement and anticipation outweighed the fear.

A movie.

Did she really want to watch a movie?

She did. And the lightbulb above her head ignited as she realized exactly which one. Looking at her knees, her heart in her throat, she said softly-

"We could watch a movie,"

"We can watch whatever you want,"

That was it. The green-light. Gwen looked back up with eyes full of excitement. Her brain instantaneously forgot about movies' real worlds and people. She explained to her parents which film she'd like to watch and to her surprise, her mother agreed. At the time, Gwen couldn't remember why her heart was beating. It didn't matter.

That was the night her cinephile life changed forever.

That was the night she watched her first ever horror movie.

That was the night she watched "Psycho".

It was all she could think about through school. Well, it was one of the things she thought about. There was that small fact that she had met real live characters in another dimension. However, she was still as invisible and looked down on in school as ever.

Her Hufflepuff scarf, her "Carry A Towel" t-shirt, and her constant doodling of fictional people created the idea to others that she was below intelligence and slightly insane.

Gwen liked to consider herself a Luna Lovegood in a mass of Hermione Grangers. That being said, she called them Hermione Grangers because they were over-popular and naysaying. She liked to compare herself with Luna because second from Snape, Luna was her favourite 'Harry Potter' character. And mainly because to others, she was perhaps just as strange and bizarre.

She had about three other Luna Lovegood friends that usually hung out with her, but only three.

Ryan, who was African-Canadian and bespectacled, was one year older than Gwen, and had seen pretty much every form of iconic horror ever (he was able to survive them, as his parents were doctors and he could tell when gore was real and when it wasn't).

Then there was Bea, the Latina black haired and blue-eyed Whovian and Edgar Allan Poe geek, who actually enjoyed math.

And lastly, Kyle, blonde with floppy hair that had been shaved underneath and usually found with some kind of Disney shirt on.

All four loved 'Harry Potter' (and were what the Internet called "Pro-Snape"), Kyle secretly liked 'My Little Pony', and their types of parties usually included playing 'Scene It', binging 'Mystery Science Theatre 3000', or watching a movie one of them had discovered and showed the others.

But despite having them around, Gwen held up the facade of ending up in a wrong part of Halifax.

"I wasn't even aware there WAS a wrong part of Halifax," Kyle said, doodling in his math book.

"Well, there is. And I don't really want to talk about it," Gwen was eyeing Ryan's t-shirt, which had the silhouette of a man in a fedora and long coat, holding a briefcase. The man on the t-shirt was staring up at a house while underneath a lamppost. "I did see some pretty good cosplays though."

"Man, I wish I had the time to do cosplay," Kyle sighed. "I went online and saw someone do this awesome Tracer cosplay-"

"Everyone does Tracer cosplays," Bea rolled her eyes, one headphone in her right ear. "Harley Quinn, Tracer, Batman, Hermione Granger. Look, I'm not saying I'm annoyed with the cosplays or the characters but-"

"You're annoyed with the cosplays and the characters," Gwen laughed. Personally, she didn't know whether or not to be annoyed with the characters. She hadn't met any of them yet.

That was a thought.

She could meet Batman.

"Yeah, but it was Tracer mixed with Poison Ivy," Kyle finished.

"Why?" Ryan asked.

"I dunno. Because,"

"I once saw Darth Vader mixed with Donald Trump," Bea added blankly.

"Yeah, but THAT makes sense," Ryan said, nodding.

Gwen smiled slightly and looked at her phone. She had the temptation to watch the video of Snape closing the Upside-Down portal in the Subway but how was she supposed to explain that if she got caught? She cleared her throat.

"So, Ryan, my mom's letting me watch 'Psycho' tonight. What do you think about that?"

The pencil in Ryan's hand dropped onto the table. He looked up, eyes wide. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah,"

"Your first horror movie! I'm so proud of you! What, is it like a treat since what happened last night?"

"Yeah,"

"Sweeeet," Ryan whistled. "It's fantastic. You're gonna love it."

"Wait, which one is 'Psycho' again?" Kyle asked.

Ryan imitated stabbing with a knife while he sung- "Wah wah wah wah!" in a high-pitched voice.

"Oh. It's the one 'Bates Motel' is based on," Bea said, still not looking at them.

"No, Bea. No," Gwen laughed, pointing at her with a pen. "We don't discuss 'Bates Motel'

"Yeah, but I like that show,"

"Yeah, but it breaks canon," Ryan noted. "And it's not even set in the right time period! And the Bates' built the Motel, they didn't buy it!"

"Woah, Ryan, calm down. You're giving away spoilers,"

"Oh shut up, Gwen. You already know how it ends!" Ryan laughed.

"Yeah, but that's all I know!" Gwen grinned.

It was true. Her mother and her had been sitting in a restaurant when Mrs MacMillan had accidentally spilled the beans on the whole "Mother" twist at the end of 'Psycho'. Gwen didn't mind so much now. Knowing how a scary movie ended helped her anxiety a bit.

Although endings didn't really matter, Hannibal Lecter could've been arrested at the end of 'Silence of the Lambs' and it wouldn't have changed the fact that she had met him.

That evening, with as many lights on as they could manage, Gwen and her mother sat on the couch together in the living room, under a blanket with bagels.

The movie was scarier in her head than what she saw on screen. By the end of that night, it had become Gwen's fourth favourite movie. She adored it. She loved Marion and screamed furiously when discovered she would be the one dying in the shower. She loved Norman Bates, despite being a murderer. He was shy and sweet and trapped in a terrible situation, with no help. Yes, he was crazy. But he was oh so handsome and very kind.

She loved the line- "You eat like a bird," and the scene where Norman sinks the car into the swamp. She loved the silhouette art done with the black and white colours. She loved the way Norman always ate Kandy Korn, how "Mother" had used the term 'dank' to describe the cellar.

She loved how the name 'Arbogast' was used so often that you could make a drinking game out of it. How chocolate sauce was used instead of fake blood. She loved the shot of Norman craning his neck directly over the camera.

And that shower scene. It was brutal. So incredibly brutal. Even though you never saw anything, the sound and movement of the knife was jarring. It was so violent and yet, she couldn't take her eyes off it. Somehow, they filmed Janet Leigh without ever showing nudity. Somehow, she held that pose, pretending to be a corpse for so long. She discovered, it wasn't the scene itself that people loved but what it represented. The main character being killed off so violently with barely any gore and no nudity.

Gwen thought Arbogast's death was funnier.

She loved the whole movie so much, she had forgotten that Alfred Hitchcock had accidentally caused it to happen in reality. And deep down she knew, Norman Bates- whether or not he was still Mother- was banished somewhere mysterious for his crimes by Aslan. He was banished to a place no one knew with his motel of twelve cabins and twelve vacancies.

The more Gwen thought about Norman, the scarier and yet more intriguing he became. She couldn't decide whether or not to pay attention to the terrifying image of him racing into the basement while wielding a knife, and wearing a huge grin and his mother's clothes...or the image of him showing Marion around her room and smiling while saying- "There's some stationary with Bates Motel on it if you want to make your friends back home envious." (Gwen wanted that stationary, desperately).

She wasn't sure if he even counted as a villain, but more of an antagonist. Then again, it was an ongoing debate in her mind.

Maybe if she ever met him, she would decide.

If she ever _met_ him.

She wasn't sure she wanted to meet him.

But she needed to go back to Charactia. She promised that she would. And she wanted to. She really did. She wanted to see Snape again and with her newfound knowledge- now with the breakthrough that she had seen her first ever horror movie- she was almost brand new. As she lay awake in bed that night, she concocted a scheme to get her back to Charactia. She considered Ethan's words and smirked in a way that would make Norman Bates jealous.

But if she was really going to survive Charactia, she was going to need a weapon and some more information. Looking under her pillow, she made sure that Ethan's card was still there. Using her flashlight, she beamed it around her room.

Her walls were plastered with drawings and art she had done, as well as posters she had bought at her local DVD stores.

She looked at the faces of the Avengers, the Justice League, dinosaurs from Jurassic World, Hans Gruber and John McClane, Bilbo Baggins, Newt Scamander and his crew, and finally Severus Snape.

She saw Snape's face in her room three different times.

Then, she lowered the flashlight onto the spot above her desk where she had her Funko Pop collection and more drawings.

There she saw a pencil sketch of Norman Bates as "Mother" she had drawn barely a few hours ago. It was a cartoonish sketch but it looked like him.

Beneath him were drawings from one of her favourite movies "Galaxy Quest", a detailed and shaded sketch of tightrope Ally Gal from the Haunted Mansion ride at Disney World, and art of Severus Snape. She also had a good collection of art from her own stories.

She swallowed and pointed her beam back on her large poster of Snape. It really didn't do him justice.

She clicked off the flashback and glaring into the dark determinedly, she fumbled with her pillow.

She was going back. There was no question.


	4. Magic and Starbucks

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if...um...maybe, after work tomorrow... I could go over to Ryan's,"

"When do you get off work?"

"Well, I start at six and then get off around eleven,"

"And how long were you planning on staying at Ryan's?"

"Until eight. He lives right next to the grocery store so once I take the bus to the store, then I can just walk over to his place-"

"And when did you think you were getting back exactly?"

"Umm...nine, maybe?"

"Do you have any homework?"

"Nnnoo,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes,"

"Will you call me when you're done? I'm not comfortable with you getting back on the bus,"

"Um, yeah, sure,"

Gwen had never so blatantly lied to her parents before. She had never blatantly lied to _anyone_, really. Except for that RCMP officer. And Ethan Hunt, but he had seen directly through her lies. Still, she wasn't sure she was ready for her parents to know exactly what she was doing on Saturday.

Working with an international spy agency against a group of serial killers wasn't exactly activities meant for a teenager who still didn't have a full license.

And she planned on visiting someone a tad more stubborn than Ryan. She already had a plan formulated.

When she arrived at school the day before she would return to Charactia, she asked Ryan if she could borrow his book "101 Horror Movies To See Before You Die".

"YOU want to borrow it?"

"It's for my mom,"

Another blatant lie.

"Oh yeah, sure. I'll go home at lunch and get it,"

Ryan stayed true to his word and returned to the last two periods of school with the book. It was small- about the size of a journal- with a photo of Jack Torrance stalking next to a hedge, ax in hands.

"Careful," Ryan nodded. "There's some graphic stuff in there."

Gwen had a flashback to herself cowering behind the Subway counter and her heart rate quickened.

"Yeah, thanks,"

That evening, Gwen's family decided to go out for Boston Pizza, which sat next to the Chapters- a large bookstore with just about everything Gwen could want in the world.

She was allowed to buy herself a nice plush journal with an imprint of Hogwarts castle on it and spent a while, crosslegged, in the film section.

She browsed through behind the scenes art of "Harry Potter", catching herself thinking about seeing Snape rather than looking at him on the page.

"Hey, check this out,"

Giselle, about two years younger than her older sister, with her curly brown hair dyed pink at the ends, had come from the comic book section and sat down with an art compendium of "The Dark Knight".

"Man, I wanna live in Gotham so bad."

"You just wanna date Bruce Wayne,"

"You're the one swooning over Snape,"

Gwen gave a pink-faced grin at her and then looked through the new illustrated editions of "The Philosopher's Stone and "The Prisoner of Azkaban". And snapped a photos of the paintings that involved Snape. A part of her felt he might find them interesting.

That night, Gwen hardly slept. Half from anxiety, half from excitement. She still didn't know if returning to Charactia was really a good idea for her. But when Ethan Hunt asks for a favour, it's a miracle what you can do.

She woke up at four o clock Saturday morning and moved so stealthily, she felt like Jim Halpert in 'A Quiet Place'. She took out her Spider-Gwen backpack and began to pack.

She packed Ryan's book, a large and heavy hardcover character encyclopedia for 'Harry Potter', her new journal and a pen, a copy of 'Philosopher's Stone', and her Holy Bible (just in case).

Dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt with with the 10th Doctor on it, and a button up dark blue sweater, she pulled her hair reddish brown hair into a tight ponytail, and packed her red and black and red head scarf.

She also packed some extra underwear, a pair of high Ms Marvel socks, an extra shirt (a green one with a black doe on it and the word 'Always', she couldn't resist), an extra sweater and other tiny necessities.

Then, she packed her toothbrush, for good measure, and snuck downstairs to the dark kitchen.

Now the real work started.

She stocked up on granola bars, clementines, and filled two water bottles. She put on a pair of tough winter boots, her yellow raincoat, and made her way to the back laundry room. She found her dad's water-proof flashlight, her bulky swimming goggles, and a pair of yellow gloves for handling chemicals.

She put them all on, shoved the flashlight into the last remaining space in her bag.

Slowly, she crept into the garage that connected through the laundry room. She grasped her sister's baseball bat. And she froze. What if she lost these things? What if something terrible happened back home and they needed these?

Overwhelmed by this thought, she took off the yellow bulky gloves and replaced them with knitted mittens her grandmother had made that were the colour of moon mist ice cream.

She wrote a note for her parents and left in on her bed. They never entered her room and so if they did in emergency, they would know exactly where she was.

She couldn't lie if she disappeared for three days. So she explained everything in about three pages and left them there.

When she looked at herself in the mirror with her baseball bat, goggles on the top of her head, and backpack heavy with supplies, she felt that- personally- she looked a little like Steve Harrington.

Why not? She'd seen a...part of the Demogorgon.

She stuffed her black and gold Tri-Force wallet into her pocket, took another bathroom break, and took one last look around the kitchen before heading out the door.

The morning was dark at four thirty in the morning, the street

lamps were still on, but the air was cool. Gwen plugged in her earphones and put her "Hamilton" playlist on shuffle.

She had had so many weird dreams where she had been forced to leave her home for some strange reason and now, it was legitimately coming true. Gwen held onto Ethan's card, which sat next to her phone in the rain jacket pocket.

Something had been telling her that she'd be in Charactia for more than a day, and her anxiety was driving her insane, knowing that her family would be going crazy with worry.

Swinging her baseball bat around for a few seconds gave her arms something to do, half-pretending to beat Hannibal right in his stupid, smirking, arrogant face.

There was a bus-stop just around the corner of her street. She pulled out the IMF pass (with some difficulty due to her mittens) and reached the end of her street. Turning left, she walked another few meters before arriving at the small, sheltered bus stop.

She sat down. She waited.

She decided that now was a good time to start crying. She hadn't even said goodbye to her little sister OR her parents. Should she go back just to do so?

No, she couldn't risk missing the bus.

Half-crying, half-praying, she looked up and down the street nervously. What if the bus didn't actually arrive at this stop? What if she had to walk the extra hour to get to the bus stop she had been at before?

There were some runners out early in the morning and they certainly passed with inquisitive expressions at the girl who sat with a baseball bat, resembling a cross between Steve Harrington, Georgie from "It", and that guy from "American Psycho" (only she was wielding a bat instead of an ax).

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen minutes passed. The sky was no longer a dark indigo, rather a lighter ocean colour. Charles Lee was screaming "Retreat!" in one ear, while Washington called "Attack!" in the other. Frankly, Gwen was starting to think Lee may have been onto something.

There was a loud crack like a whip that caused her to shriek and nearly jump off the bench. The smooth, white transit bus with the "Jurassic World" ad on the side was slowly pulling up to the bus-stop in perfect Knight Bus fashion.

It slowed to a stop before her and the doors opened. But rather than a Vulcan, a red bleary-eyed Nautolan with tentacles for hair sat at the wheel.

"You goin' to laser tag or something?" he asked as Gwen mounted the steps to the bus, her knees shaking. She showed the card to the driver, who whistled and nodded to the seating area.

Gwen sat on the bench she had sat the last time, on the right next to the window. Alone. The bus was stark empty this morning. Rorschach was not sitting in the corner and that made Gwen feel a bit empty inside.

She watched her street pull away and wiped her eyes. She kept looking at the Nautolan (she had never seen one before and they were so fascinating to watch) and she finally said-

"Hey, could you drop me off at the Bronx?"

"The Bronx? Any particular area?"

"Um, do you know who Wario is?"

"Describe 'im,"

"Plump. Black moustache. Always wears purple and yellow. He owns an apartment building,"

"Sorry. I don't know 'im,"

"Okay,"

"Hey, random question,"

"Shoot,"

"Why do you stop by the All-Knower universe? I though everyone in Charactia thought it was fictional,"

"This is New York," the Nautolan said. He frowned at her. "You tired or sumthin'?"

"Um...yeah,"

Gwen looked at her reflection in the glass ahead of her. Her blue eyes were mirrored with tears.

She removed her backpack and lay it on the seat next to her. It looked just about ready to burst from the sheer amount of supplies inside it. And when she lay her head down on it, it wasn't very comfortable. But she stretched across the bench and did her best to sleep.

Hamilton roasting Jefferson was the nicest lullaby she was going to get.

There was a low hissing noise of the bus slowing to a stop and Gwen's eyes popped open.

"Okay, we're here!"

She sat up and noticed the sour taste in her mouth that she usually had when she took a nap. She swung her backpack on and grasped her bat. Yawning, she made her way to the front of the bus.

The Nautolan nodded to her, grinning pearly white teeth, as Gwen descended out of the bus and onto the sidewalk.

She had to stand on the sidewalk for a moment and take in her surroundings.

In just two days, just like that, she was back in New York City. Back in Charactia. The streets were already bustling and the sun was rising, but the tall buildings with vibrant lights and graffitied walls were back.

She was standing on the sidewalk where some trains were going through a tunnel above. When the bus pulled away, she was staring across the street at the exact same pizzeria she had witnessed Severus Snape own a gang of thugs and change a frog back into a man.

She couldn't help but let a goofy grin come onto her face. She was back in the world where that sort of event was possible.

But she was also back in the world where she was fair game for Michael Myers, so she shut off "Hamilton" and took out her earphones, deciding to tread carefully.

Racking her brains for the exact route Snape had taken to his apartment wasn't easy. It was a tad stressful how difficult it actually was. It was lighter now in the city and when she had followed him, the sky had matched both his robes and his hair. The surroundings looked much different.

Gwen forced herself to ask directions from three different people (two were humans, while one was Bajoran) until she had reached a familiar sidewalk along the park.

Clutching her bat, she peered through the bushes of the park just in case she spotted Jason Vorhees. But she was, in a way, surprised at how relaxed she felt. She was comfortable being back in Charactia.

She was still terrified but Snape had paralyzed Freddy Krueger to save her just two days ago, so that image helped keep her calm. She felt even more secure when she saw the run down, vandalized apartment complex.

After crossing the road the way she had done the first time (with much dodging of cars and shrieking), she hit the sidewalk before the complex.

She took in a deep breath, and pushed in on the dirty doors, entering the brick building.

It was the same tiny, dusty, stained, and putrid-smelling lobby she had been in before. The rickety stairs on the left filled half of the room and the reception desk (which was basically a table with some papers and a lamp on it) sat on the right. Only this time, it was empty.

Gwen approached the desk slowly, looking around for a sign of...anyone. She didn't want to just intrude on the people upstairs. It was still quite early. But the old woman who had been at the desk the last time wasn't there.

She noticed the bell on the desk and rang it. It's small ding was the loudest thing in the entire lobby. About a minute passed before the woman, cigarette in one hand and curlers still in her hair, skidded around the corner.

"Alright, I'm comin'...I'm comin'. Geez, what is-"

The old woman stopped in her tracks the very second she saw Gwen. She squinted and had a long draw on her cigarette.

"Oh. You again. I s'pose your lookin' for that Snape man again,"

Gwen smiled shyly and nodded.

"Well, sorry. But he left about five minutes ago,"

"He's gone?"

"Honey, are you deaf? That's what I just said!"

Gwen groaned at the ceiling and rolled her eyes. "Do you know where he went?"

"Well, I assume he went out for some breakfast. I highly doubt it, he can barely pay his rent-"

"Breakfast where?"

"There's a Starbucks around the corner but-"

"Okay, perfect! Thanks!"

The woman held up a finger to stop her but Gwen had already turned on her heel and raced out the door.

The streets were busier now and the sun was slowly ascending into the sky. Gwen looked down the sidewalk both ways, her heart pumping, bouncing on her toes. She jogged to the left of the sidewalk and rounded a corner.

The street was also mainly filled with apartments but with the occasional big-name brand store as well including a Party City across the road, a McDonalds, and a Starbucks just down the sidewalk from where Gwen stood.

She reached into her pocket and rummaged around for a bit, holding her baseball bat underneath an arm. God was clearly on her side because inside of her wallet was her unused Starbucks fifteen dollar gift card. She double checked the date.

It didn't expire until next week. Perfect. She squealed excitedly through her teeth and began to bound along the sidewalk, towards the green mermaid symbol, drawing the attention of a group of burly Klingons she passed.

As she slowed to a walk, she had to do a double take in through the long window along the Starbucks' side. She felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest with joy.

There he was, in line for the counter- desperately counting coins in the palm of his hand. Severus Snape stood out like a greasy, sore thumb in the Starbucks.

For starters, he was much taller than anyone in line (all of which were humans) and he was dressed in his usual black robes and buttoned Victorian coat with his cravat. His eyes looked extra bagged this morning and his hair was tangled at one side. His hooked nose pointed down at the coins he was counting, and Gwen couldn't help but notice one of his hands was trembling slightly.

When white fog appeared before her, she jumped and took a step back, realizing that she had been staring at him with her nose pressed against the glass.

"Okay," She straightened her jacket, stuck her baseball bat into her backpack, pocketed her mittens, and made her way into the Starbucks. "Okay, alright, relax,"

She had to have been the youngest person there. The Starbucks looked similar to every other one she had been in. Dark panelled floors, chalkboards for ordering menus, a glass case to show off the pastries and sandwiches, and a case on the far right where there sat purchasable coffee mugs.

Gwen anxiously got in line about one man behind Snape, who was muttering under his breath. Her eyes were fixed on him.

She had forgotten how real he was. His appearance was so very much Alan Rickman but it was also very much his book description. He was somehow perfectly both. He was perfectly himself.

When the line moved forward and Snape approached the counter, he took a long look at the pastries in the display case. Then at the coins in his hand. Then the display case.

The young woman at the cash register frowned, almost with a concerned expression, before Snape mumbled something to her. She pointed to the rack behind the line where there were newspapers and Snape nodded, dropping the coins on the counter.

Gwen hid her face when he passed as he went to retrieve a newspaper. He made his way over to the window and sat himself up on one of the high chairs and table. When he had passed, Gwen had heard his stomach moan loudly.

Upon arriving at the counter, Gwen ordered a grande Vanilla Bean Frappuccino, a tall warm milk, and two bacon breakfast sandwiches. She held her breath as her Canadian-bought card was analyzed and exhaled loudly when her purchases were permitted.

She glanced over at Snape, whose face was buried in his newspaper, but he occasionally looked out the window to across the street where you could see other apartments, small pubs, and the large Party City.

Gwen put her name down as 'Ripley' for her order so Snape wouldn't recognize her, on the odd chance he had learned her name when he had read her mind during their first meeting.

She waited patiently until they called her fake name, then she collected her drinks on a tray and her sandwiches in their bags.

Her heart was going so fast, she worried it may cause her to trip as she walked up to Snape's table, knees shaking. His face was still buried in the newspaper but she had a suspicion he could probably see her.

Still, she made her way up to the other chair across from him and allowing the goofy grin onto her face, she slid the food in front of the newspaper.

Slowly, Snape lowered the newspaper to reveal his sallow, thin face. Gwen grinned up at him from the floor.

"I'm back," she said happily.

Snape's black, fathomless, slightly bloodshot eyes narrowed at her, as if he were sizing her up.

"What the hell is on your head?" Alan Rickman's voice cut through Gwen like a knife that turned her insides into happy ice.

"I came back even though you told me not to, I buy you breakfast, and that's what you ask?" Gwen laughed slightly.

"They're swimming goggles. I brought them to be prepared."

Snape cocked a perfect eyebrow and looked at the food on the table.

"You should not have come back," he whispered.

Gwen shrugged and climbed onto the chair across from Snape. His eyes followed her and his confused face morphed into a nasty scowl.

"Probably not, but here I am,"

"I suppose you want a chance to...be friends again,"

"Listen," Gwen's voice was jittering and she had to look away from Snape eyes every once in a while. "I'm here on a special mission. And besides, I don't want us to be friends- I just want-"

"Liar," Snape snapped.

Gwen blushed a dark red so she began to take her green straw out of its wrapper. She poked it into the soft whipping cream of her Frappuccino. Snape watched her every move.

"I'm being honest. I am on a special mission. You can read my mind and everything!"

"I'm not wasting my talents on you," Snape said. He covered his face with the paper again. Gwen sighed and shrugged.

"Alright then,"

She then looked at the floor and squealed silently and excitedly to herself. Snape lowered the paper again, and she made her face as unemotional as possible.

"Are you here in Manhattan alone?" Snape asked.

"Yes, Professor,"

"Do your parents happen to know where you are?"

"I left a note..."

"How very stupid of you, All-Knower,"

"My name is Gwendolyn MacMillan,"

"Well, MacMillan. You are wasting your time being here. I don't want to talk to you, I don't want to look at you, so why don't you collect your things and walk out that door right now?" Snape sneered.

"You're starting to sound a bit like Norman Bates,"

"Who?"

"No one,"

"If your mission is so special, and I highly doubt it is as you yourself are not-" Snape started.

"Thanks," Gwen mumbled under her breath.

"- then you should go and attend to it, end it quicker so that you can leave Charactia sooner."

"Why do you want me to leave Charactia so soon?" Gwen asked.

She removed her breakfast sandwich from its bag and took a bite of it. She triumphantly noticed Snape swallow and watch the sandwich hungrily.

"Because frankly, MacMillan, you're a pain,"

"Why? Because I know about your life?"

"Finally, you've said something right." Snape rolled his eyes and returned to his paper.

"Look, Professor. There's a boatload of people in my dimension who know everything about you and-"

"Then you're all pains,"

"Some of them are," Gwen admitted.

Snape and Gwen locked eyes for a second and she smiled bashfully. She gestured to the food on the table.

"Go on. I bought these for you. Steamed milk and a sandwich,"

"I'm not hungry,"

"Are you still...um..." Gwen hesitated and pushed herself forwards. "...coughing up blood?"

At this, Snape slapped the newspaper onto the table and Gwen flinched violently. The cold tunnels in Snape's eyes were alight with malice.

"I asked you to leave, MacMillan, so leave,"

"No," Gwen ripped off some bacon from her sandwich, emphasizing her position. "I'm gonna eat my food and you know what, I just bought that so you're gonna eat it too."

Snape's shoulder's seemed to hunch with anger when she said this and Gwen shrunk a little. Her heart raced with nerves now when she realized she had just fought back against the Potions Master only Ron Weasley and Harry Potter had been able to fight against.

"I don't need your pity food,"

"It's not pity food," Gwen's voice was small now. "I would buy food for anyone I liked who might be starving! I've done it for friends back home!"

"Oh you LIKE me, do you?" Snape snarled.

Gwen said nothing. She stared out the window and sipped at her Frappuccino, shaking. Snape was silent too. She figured out why when she saw him retrieving his own sandwich from the bag, analyzing it.

Then, in the corner of her eye, Gwen watched him slowly take a bite of it. He paused his chewing and from the corner of his mouth, said-

"You're lucky I even touched this, you miserable girl,"

"You're lucky I care about your well-being," Gwen muttered angrily. She was remembering why her eleven-year-old self wanted to give Snape such a hard slap.

"Stop caring about me. I'm not worth your care and I don't need your sorry little compassion,"

"You've needed compassion your whole life, Snape. It's why you're like this,"

"Look at me,"

The three words took Gwen so off guard that she had to do as she said. She and Snape were making extreme eye-contact and Gwen knew what that meant. She knew he'd decided to read her mind, but for what she didn't know.

His mad eyes were lined with intense dislike and his lips were thin with a snarl.

"Listen to me, you insolent child. I don't want to hear any of your opinions of me, do you understand? I want you out of this Starbucks and back to your own dimension. I don't want your pity, I don't want your sympathy, and I certainly don't want your company! Don't you dare lecture me on what I need, because believe me- you know next to nothing! This is the last time you will come talk to me, do I make myself clear?"

Gwen scowled out the window, bit her tongue. Prevented herself from retaliating. She bit harshly into her sandwich and focused across the street. She knew he was pushing her away because she cared. Snape _hated_ it when people cared about him, because then he had the threat of feeling raw emotions again.

She focused on big green and purple sign for the Party City across the road. The one back home in Halifax was like a TARDIS of cheap party stuff. Except for the cool Harley Quinn shirt they had from "Suicide Squad".

"MacMillan, do I make- myself- clear?"

Gwen slurped at her Frappuccino and watched the cars go buy. Out of all the cars on the road, only one stood out. The rest of the cars were mainly long with dark reds and blues except this one.

The one that she watched, was bright yellow.

"MacMillan!"

The bright yellow car had pulled up to the Party City and parked directly in front of the doors.

It was a Volkswagen Beetle and Gwen's immediate thought was that it looked like the Torrances' car from "The Shining" (her film class had studied opening scene a few days before so she recognized the car).

Her second thought was that it looked just like like Emma Swan's car from 'Once Upon a Time'.

It was a nice car. She looked back at Snape, who was sipping his steamed milk. Then, with a heavy heart and dark eyes, she said-

"I won't bother you again,"

"You are certainly right you won't," Snape hissed. "Now, the faster you finish, the faster you leave so hurry up.

The urge to purposefully eat slower to savour her time with Snape was strong but he was too busy reading the paper and had made it obvious that he didn't want to talk. Gwen looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was already six twenty. She needed to get to the IMF.

She watched Snape sadly when he started coughing into his arm and wiped red blood from his mouth. She couldn't figure out why he was sick. She didn't know what starvation did, either than make you thin and kill you. Did it have something to do with Nagini's bite?

She didn't want to think about it and decided to watch the yellow bug while finishing up her sandwich.

The driver was no longer in the car and the front trunk of the beetle was open. Gwen was halfway done her sandwich when the driver came out of the Party City carrying what looked like a big plastic bag of white cream.

The sandwich in Gwen's hand fell onto the table as her body began to shake. She had seen the driver's face as he loaded the bag into the beetle.

"S-Snape-"

"Finish eating,"

"B-but- But Snape-"

The driver closed the trunk and leaned against it, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up.

The driver wore a brown plaid jacket, a muddy coloured sweater with a white collar peeking out from it, and black pants. His hair was balding, his eyebrows were thick, dark, and triangular. He blew smoke into the air, bobbing his head back and forth.

"Snape, look- Look-"

"What do you _want_?"

"Th-There- The b-beetle-"

"I don't see a beetle anywhere. For goodness sake, you're a teenager. Kill it yourself,"

"The yellow car! Look!"

Snape finally looked up from his paper and across the street. Gwen's whole body was shaking and there were tears in her eyes as she stared at the driver.

She couldn't believe it. It didn't just _look_ like the car from "The Shining". It _was_ the car from "The Shining".

The second Snape had seen the car, Gwen panicked at the sound of intensity in his voice.

"MacMillan, stay here," he whispered.

"Wh-What? No-"

"Listen to me," There was no kindness in Snape's voice, but there was plain and utter seriousness. "You are not to leave this place, do you understand? Don't move. Whatever you do, don't move."

"But- But Snape-" Tears leaked out of Gwen's eyes and to her horror, Snape had drawn his wand and unseated himself. "Snape- no- don't- please- I can't- I can't stay here alone- what if-"

"I told you not to come back. The least you can do is obey my orders now," Snape said. "Stay. Here."

"No- Snape- No- No-"

But Snape had already turned on his heel and strode out the door. The man leaning on the beetle had exited back into Party City and Snape stood on the sidewalk, analyzing what to do.

Hands shaking, tears rolling down her face, Gwen hastily grabbed her phone Ethan's card from her pocket. She flipped it over and dialled the number on the back. She listened to the ringing on her phone, her eyes locked on Snape who paced the sidewalk.

The phone rang. And rang. Gwen started whispering- "Come on, come on, pick up, pick up, dear God let him pick up-"

A familiar voice came from the phone into Gwen's ear.

"A mosquito only drinks blood,"

"Ethan- Ethan it's me! It's Gwen!" she gasped out.

Ethan Hunt dropped the coded language. "Wait- what? Gwen? All-Knower?"

"Yes- yes- it's me- I need your help- right now-"

"Okay, alright, calm down. Take a deep breath. What's going on? Where are you?"

Gwen's wide eyes were locked on the yellow bug but as Snape crossed the road to the Party City, he Apparated halfway across the street. The driver had returned to loading his trunk, then sat inside of the car's front seat.

"Ethan- I- I'm at-" She was gulping air and tears. "I'm at the Starbucks in the Bronx- Just across from the Party City- There's- There's a h-horror villain ac-cross the street- and he's in his car and-"

"Okay. Stay there. I'm calling for backup. I'm going to see if Brandt can spare me a few men. Gwen, listen to me, you're sure it's one of Lecter's men?"

"P-positive- It's Jack Torrance- I thought he was dead but-"

"Okay, Gwen, listen. Here's what you have to do- you need to take a picture of the license plate,"

"Wha- What?" Gwen looked over her shoulder and people were staring. She quieted her voice as best she could. "No- I can't-"

"Gwen, if he drives away, we can't catch up him before he hits that point where he gets off our maps. You've got to get a picture of that license plate. Once you've done that, run straight back into the Starbucks and hide in the bathroom,"

"B-But Ethan- what if- what if- Ethan, I th-think he has an ax-"

"There's no time. See if you can get the staff on your side if the villain chases you in there but if you can help it, do not engage him. Do not enter the Party City or even look inside. I'll be there as soon as I can. I promise,"


	5. The Yellow Bug License Plate

The beeping that signified that Ethan had just hung up sucker punched Gwen directly in the gut.

Her eyes hadn't left the yellow bug parked outside of the Party City since her call. It was as though her body was glued to the chair.

Snape had told her to stay put. Ethan had told her to do something much more horrible.

It didn't matter if they had only met once before. She trusted Ethan Hunt and if he said that the only way to catch Hannibal Lecter and the others was to record Jack's license plate, he meant it.

And Jack could pull away any second, meaning that if she were going to act, she'd have to act now.

Alright then. Take a photo of the license plate of an insane, possessed, recovering alcoholic that tried to kill his family. No biggie.

Shaking violently, Gwen pocketed her cellphone. She stuffed the last bit of her sandwich into her mouth, even though she felt sick, and opened her backpack.

She shoved Snape's sandwich and newspaper inside, slurped at her Frappuccino and tried to enjoy it. If this was her last meal, at least it was Starbucks.

Pulling out her baseball bat, she lowered her swimming goggles onto her eyes. They were uncomfortable, slightly blurry, and difficult to breathe in but they made her feel protected.

She gripped her bat and turned away from the window.

Almost everyone was watching her but pretending not to. She sniffed through tears and saluted the Starbucks before she hopped down from her chair, backpack on, and left.

She felt like Marty McFly in the final 'Back to the Future' movie when he had the Clint Eastwood showdown with Biff's outlaw ancestor. She was standing exactly opposite to the Torrance's car and analyzed the scene carefully.

She had almost forgotten how to breathe when she saw Jack in the front seat, smoking.

Holding the bat steady, gaining stares across the sidewalk, she side-stepped to the right where the crosswalk was laid out.

A false but comforting thought entered her mind. The same thought that had entered her mind when she had seen Hannibal for the first time: It's not really him. It's just a guy who LOOKS like him. Jack Torrance isn't real. He's fictional. He was invented by Stephen King. He was played by Jack Nicholson. He was brought to screen by Stanley Kubrick. He couldn't possibly be real...

Fooling herself was becoming more difficult as she neared the crosswalk and he became more clear. His arm was draped out the window the Volkswagen and it seemed too tangible to be fake. She squinted at it, she tried hard to will him from existence.

He got out of the car. Gwen's entire body froze up as he ducked onto the road, and rounded onto the sidewalk. He disappeared inside the Party City again.

He hadn't seen her.

Snape materialized in a store aisle.

He blinked a few times, slightly dizzy, and took in the store around him. He was standing in an aisle that was filled with nothing but candy and chocolate.

It was sickening how much sugar sat in rainbow walls on either side of him, and at the same time his empty stomach complained for it.

He was glaring at a contraption that sat in the center of the aisle. He had seen one of these in a fake Chinese restaurant a few days ago. He wasn't quite sure what it was called but it had a large transparent sphere on top filled with rainbow coloured balls and a red triangular bottom with a little silver knob and slot.

The only difference between this contraption and the one in the restaurant was that this one was taller than he was, and there were perhaps a thousand balls inside.

There was a shrill scream from behind and Snape spun round, wand in hand.

The aisle of candy continued before him but at the end, he could see a hulking silhouette pacing back and forth across the opening, machete in wielded one hand.

Snape hid behind the contraption, listening as hard as he dared.

"Hey, you're not allowed to scream, okay? It's against the rules!"

The hulking form had disappeared, leading Snape to believe it had gone to assess the situation.

"What are you going to do to us!?" a woman cried. Snape rolled his eyes. Didn't people ever learn to shut up in situations like these?

"Are you worried that I'm going to kill you?" Yes, it was the form alright. Snape recognized that cracking voice in an instant. "Because I might have to if you don't stop screaming! And I don't wanna do that, okay? Seems really unnecessary and unfair."

"Commander," A new voice sounded out. It was slightly strained and nasally. "How many of these bags do we got left? My trunk's outta room."

"I dunno. I think we got double the amount since- you know-"

"Yeah, I know. The General had the nerve to screw up my car and now he's gonna take the time to screw up my OTHER car. I didn't wanna come,"

"But...you can't sit and type all day,"

"Oh yeah? Why not?"

"It's bad for your cholesterol. That's what the Lieutenant said,"

"I don't give a shit what the Lieutenant said. You're insane,"

The hulking form returned to pacing and Snape heard the

footsteps of the other voice one aisle away. Carefully, he stalked the brown plaid jacket that he could see through the shelves.

The Captain was whistling to himself, skipping slightly. Snape continued to follow him until the end of the hallway. Jack Torrance took a left and Snape now stalked behind him.

Jack passed into three aisles over, Snape bent over in a new aisle, still watching through the shelves, hand white over his wand.

He had stayed in an aisle that was filled with plastic party blowers and cheap makeup, pressing against an area of plastic masks and makeup palettes that he knew would hide him from view. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jack pass him by.

"How many more of these, Lieutenant?"

"This one and one more," replied a rough voice with a bit of scratch in it. "Everyone behavin' themselves?"

"Yup. The Commander's doing okay. Surprisingly,"

"I'm might browse around for a while. This store is nice. I saw that they got feather boas down a few aisles, might be good for karaoke."

The next voice was monotone and deep but easily recognizable as a woman's.

"You guys are like children,"

"I take personal offence to that, Chief. Ever since you gave up your rank as Colonel in order to play with televisions all day, I'm more superior to you than ever before. So why don't you quit the back talk, alright?"

There was a sound of grumpy mumbling before the Lieutenant continued.

"As for you, Mr Marsh. Here are your winnings for your help, as the General promised. You've got a five hour window to get out of the country,"

This voice cracked like the Commander's but underneath lay intense fear. "B-But Mr Krueger, sir- F-Five hours isn't n-nearly enough t-time-"

"Look, you got your money," the Lieutenant snapped. "I can always get you more money, but I cannot get you more time. So I suggest you head down into the sewers with Pennywise

the second he hands Torrance the final ice cream."

"B-But I didn't p-pack-"

"That's not my problem. Captain, you got it?"

"Yup, I got it. The Tracker's just going back for the final ice cream,"

"How did you keep all of that cream in the sewers?" Mr Marsh marvelled.

"It's called a fridge," the Chief drawled. "We're monsters, not animals."

Snape watched as Jack, lugging the bag of melted ice cream, trudged back down the aisle. Snape knew this one well. He was lazy, prone to complaining, never wanted to get off his rear and do anything. But when he did, he did it well. He had the rank of Captain for a reason.

Carefully, Snape crept to the end of the aisle where the dark grey doors leading to the back warehouse were.

Freddy Krueger stepped out of the warehouse and stood in the door. He leaned against the doorframe and pulled out an electronic pad. He held it with his clawed hand, while he tapped at it with his left.

The Lieutenant whistled through his chapped lips and Snape felt his hand clench the shelf behind him.

He had heard that particular whistling before. He had heard it down the dark hallway that stretched out before him in a sudden jolt of memory... the whistling that had merged with the slow piano playing. The whistling Snape recognized as he was bound and dragged down the laboratory hall, shrieking and cursing, smashing lights with his mind...

It was the same whistling that crept from the laboratory into the Shrieking Shack, coming out between the snake's long fangs, piercing his ears and then suddenly- sinking into his neck-

"Can I help you?

The sound of Krueger's voice cut through Snape's chest, dragging him up from an icy bath of vivid memories.

Neither of them had moved.

He was completely out of the Lieutenant's range of sight, but Krueger had somehow figured out he was there.

Snape's whole body was shaking, cold sweat under his arms, his heart raced. Not just from being discovered, but from the outline of the snake that he saw everywhere he looked. He tried to regain his breathing.

Bury it. Suppress it. Feel nothing.

"You gonna just stand there or...?" Krueger drawled.

Snape closed his eyes and furrowed his brow. He whispered some bizarre incantation and reached out his mind.

Legilimency had as many layers to it as the mind itself. Snape had spent the last four months really practicing and experimenting with his abilities. Not that he had had the choice to practice. The extensive Legilimency training was drilled into him by Dr Natalie Brenner...the wench...

He turned his head to the left and burying everything he felt, he closed his eyes and focused. He could feel the distorted mind of Freddy Krueger right around the corner, feel every step he took, and could hear his inner voice plotting his next move.

Snape calculated a long string of equations regarding time and speed, all while listening to Krueger whisper to his mind to be quiet. He had the advantage.

In a split second, Snape turned on his heel as he heard Krueger decide to jump. He Apparated four aisles away the second Krueger's feet hit the floor, arms open, at the now empty aisle.

Krueger studied his position and the empty aisle before his arms dropped to the side.

"What the...Chief! Hey, Chief! Get over here!"

Krueger straightened his fedora and stuck his hands under the two overall straps that stretched over his ugly vomit green and dark red sweater, biting his bottom lip.

The Chief appeared by his side, her pale arms dangling by her sides, her permanently scowling face curtained by shockingly long, greasy black hair. She held up the pad Krueger had been holding.

"You dropped this,"

"Did you see anyone in this aisle?"

"No," She was as blunt and bored-sounding as ever. The Lieutenant furrowed his brow.

"I could've sworn there was someone over here,"

"Yeah, well, there isn't anyone here now so you might as well stop wondering whether there was," the Chief drawled, rolling her large black eyes. She turned to leave but Krueger used his normal hand to grasp and drag her back.

"Listen, did you stop to think of what might happen if there's someone in this Party City who shouldn't be?" he snarled.

"This plan requires no outside engagement and if someone noticed something-"

"Then there's a fault in your plan. Okay?" Samara finished dully. "Now, could you let go of my arm? I have this thing about idiots touching me."

He opened his mouth and she wrenched her arm free. Krueger made a face that very well near matched hers and folded his arms.

"I don't like your tone, Chief," he snapped, grasping the pad from her.

"Yeah. I don't like yours. What else is new?"

"Sweep the store. I want you to do a thorough examination of the aisles and make sure that the Commander apprehended everyone who entered. I've been working at this heist for two days. The General entrusted me and it cannot go wrong. You got it? _This cannot go wrong!_"

The Chief glared at him for a second. "You're awfully bitter,"

"Bitter? About what?"

"I dunno. You just sometimes scream 'bitter'. I've got this sixth sense where I can tell someone is in a pit of 'not being over something'. You and the General haven't talked in those two days so-"

"Who told you-"

"The Secretary,"

Krueger rolled his eyes and exhaled shakily, pointing over his shoulder with his scary bladed glove. "Get lookin', soldier,"

They stared at one another for another few seconds before Samara passed him and whispered- "Bitter,"

She began to lumber down the back hallway, looking into aisles and Krueger watched her, swallowing something burning in his throat. He shook himself and moved to the back room.

Why was everyone always so judgemental of him?

It was the first time Gwen had been unable to walk down a sidewalk.

She had successfully crossed the road to where the Party City stood and where Jack Torrance had parked his car. He had reemerged from the store holding another bag of white melted ice cream and had lowered it into the back seat of the yellow bug.

Then, he sat shotgun again for another smoke.

Gwen's breathing was short and her hands were tight over the end of her baseball bat. Where was Snape? Were there other slashers around? If so, which ones? When was Ethan going to show up?

She didn't know and really hated not knowing.

She had one order. One simple order and accomplishing it was a few meters away and yet- she was frozen on the spot.

He wouldn't attack her on the street, would he? There were tons of onlookers- he wouldn't dare- Was he as crazy as he was up in that hotel? Did the hotel even exist anymore?

Okay, she needed to stop thinking. For ten seconds. Stop thinking. Pretend. She was good at that. She was great at that! Just go back to pretending. Jack Torrance isn't real...he isn't real.

She closed her eyes, avoiding stares and placing herself back in the other world on her bed- reading about San Diego Comic Con, defending Snape on social media, writing fanfiction. It was all fiction...no Hannibal Lecter, no Freddy Krueger, no Jack Torrance. Just her, God, and her own mind.

She opened her eyes and took in a deep breath, moving step by step down the sidewalk.

Shaking, breathing heavily through her mouth, heart in her ears, her feet moved through invisible mud across the sidewalk. She bent her knees, just in case she was visible through the rear view mirror.

Stalking across the sidewalk, Gwen kept her eyes glued to the license plate- kept her mind focused on the base of the car-

This was working! She was doing it!

Keeping herself crouching low to the ground, Gwen reached into her right pocket with her left hand, grasping her phone.

She stalked a few paces more until the car was barely a few feet away. She couldn't believe how close she was- it was terrifying and yet exhilarating- What Ryan would give to be this close to the Torrance's actual car...

Heart racing, hand trembling, she turned her phone on and slid its lock-screen to the camera.

He wasn't real...he wasn't real...

She froze again, the camera view of her phone perfectly framing the license plate which read C00-BR1K, and started to think again.

Her shoulders relaxed and she suddenly frowned. She had suddenly figured something out.

Jack Torrance _wasn't_ real. At least, not in the way Ethan and Supergirl were. He was real in the terms of "a physical person" real. But he couldn't be real and somehow WAS real... the same way Snape was. How could she have forgotten? She had told Ethan about him two days ago...

Jack Torrance was supposed to be dead.

At the end of "The Shining", Jack was supposed to have frozen to death in the Overlook Hotel's enormous hedge maze while attempting to kill his son with an axe (as far as Gwen was concerned, it was a dysfunctional family to begin with.) And yet, here he was in New York City, alive and well.

The way Snape had gone rigid upon seeing the yellow Volkswagen Beetle told Gwen that the two had certainly met before, just like he had met Jason and Krueger. And since they were both alive, Snape and Jack had to have been connected somehow.

She shook herself and focused back on the phone. Then, she lowered her thumb to take the picture.

"Can I help you?"

Gwen's heart jumped into her throat as she slowly moved her head up, her eyes rising up to meet the eyes of a forty-three-year-old Jack Nicholson.

He was terrifying. He looked like every other man on the street in the sweater vest and green tie. He was looking down on her innocently enough, hands on his hips like a scolding father.

But Gwen knew he was different. She knew what he had done- what he had tried to do.

"I- I-"

She was shaking from head to toe and fell back onto her behind.

"You okay there?" he asked, smiling those shark-like white teeth. "Here, lemme help-" He reached his hand down but she jumped back as if it were on fire.

"N-No- No- I-"

"You look lost," he said. "Got any parents?"

"Yes- yes! As a matter of fact, I do," Gwen forced out, scrambling to her feet, nodding. She staggered from fear and Jack held his hands out, still smiling. _God, make him stop smiling- I hate that smile- _

"Well then where are they?"

Gwen's mind was racing. "They- they- they're-"

Her eyes shot across the street to the Starbucks and quickly pointed there.

"That's a crowded street, kid, I dunno-"

"No, they're- they're in the Starbucks,"

"Ohhh. Okay,"

The two made eye contact again and Gwen could feel her lip start to tremble. She would not cry- not yet- not now-

Jack folded his arms and the smile dwindled a bit. "So I'm guessing your parents aren't aware that you snuck out of the Starbucks to take an illegal photo of my license plate wearing- um- are those swimming goggles?"

Gwen nodded shakily and tapped the glass on her lens, which was fogging up quickly. "It's- it's for a school project!" she invented wildly.

"You're wearing swimming goggles for school,"

"Y-yeah! Yeah- we're doing a study on- on public abnormalities so- so we have to dress funny and pretend to get ready to take a- a photo of the um- license- license plate there. And-and then the driver comes out because I mean- only the driver would n-notice someone taking a- a photo in swimming goggles and- and then- then, to, um, tally up who caught us we- we take a photo of- of the driver and license plate,"

It was most outlandish and unbelievable excuse Gwen had ever created in her life. She stood, trembling, tearing up under the goggles. Jack staring with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hanging open.

Then, he cracked that horrible grin.

"Well why didn't you say so? Here, want me to pose?"

And that was how cinephile Gwen MacMillan snapped a photo of Jack Torrance, arms outstretched like in his 1927 New Year's Eve photo, next to his car with the license plate in full view.

There was a bleep and Jack turned around, pointing a thumb at the front of his car as he walked away backwards in the direction of the Party City.

"That's- um- that's for me!" He grinned again. "Gotta go. See ya around, kid."

_Hopefully not._

"Y-yeah, bye,"

Jack turned away and jogged into the Party City, unaware of Gwen gasping out tears and lying down on the pavement, praying Ethan would get there soon.

Jason Vorhees' back was turned. He was analyzing a large chocolate bar he had swiped from the counter while rounding up hostages. He wasn't sure whether to eat it now and risk people seeing him eat, or save it for later and risk Lecter manipulating him into giving it up.

The most important part was that his back was turned. So he didn't see Snape materialize against the wall closest to the exit, bend down and grasp the nearest hostage, a woman in a business suit.

Clapping a hand over the woman's mouth, he dragged her onto her feet and away from view into the aisle on the very far left of the store.

Snape swung the woman against the wall, his hands gripped both of her arms. Tears leaked out of the woman's eyes and she began to hyperventilate.

"Who- who-"

"How long have you been held here?" Snape snarled.

"I- I dunno- maybe an hour or-"

"How did they get in?"

The woman's chest was heaving up and down as she began to shake uncontrollably. Snape had to stop the sudden, harsh desire to slap her. He clenched his yellowish teeth.

"_How did they get in?" _

"They just- they just b-barged in- with those big weapons and- _Who are you?_"

"He's your worst nightmare. Apparently,"

Snape and the shaking woman's heads snapped to left down the aisle. His grip tightened on the woman and his scowl subsided into a brief look of real fear. He swung the hostage behind him.

Samara was standing in the middle of the hallway, barely a few feet away, that ferocious scowl on her greenish-pale face.

"I'm shocked you lived, to be honest. After all that glass you left over in the lab," she drawled.

She begun to move towards them slowly, her bare feet dragging against the floor, the soles slapping horribly and sending a shiver up Snape's back.

He kept one arm around the shaking hostage and one arm pointing his wand at the Chief. Snape decided to scowl back at her- he couldn't show anymore fear- that one flicker was a mistake.

"And I'm shocked Brenner let you live," he snarled.

"Why? Because I don't have fancy powers like you?" Samara barked, still walking towards them.

Snape stopped moving, the hostage woman crying into his back. The Chief was trying to draw them into the open front of the store- and he was not taking that chance.

"You think the doc would kill me because I can't light objects on fire by talking to them?" she continued. "The doc kept us around because we were _interesting." _

Snape's lip curled. "You. Interesting. Hard to believe,"

Samara growled. "It was bad to be the favourite,"

"You sound almost jealous,"

The Chief made a sudden jerking motion behind her and then, out of nowhere, was aiming a small gun at Snape's head.

Snape merely blinked and held his wand steady.

"Give me the girl, Prize, and I'll let you keep your head," She clicked the gun and slowly aimed it down at Snape's knees. "instead of losing both your head _and_ your knees."

Snape felt the urge to swallow and fought against it. Samara smirked.

"Does that sound like a good deal?"

"To you, perhaps," Snape snapped.

"Oh, I wasn't talking to you,"

It took a moment for Snape's mind to complete the calculations of what she meant but as he understood, he looked around behind him and the hostage woman gasped.

The Commander was standing directly behind them, breathing heavily, hands in fists, machete shaking.

"You," he whispered. "You're the guy- you're the _guy,"_

"Yes, yes, he's the _guy_," Samara rolled her eyes.

"Now would you quit your gawking and take the hostage already?"

"Why don't you just shoot him?" Jason cried.

"Yes, why don't you just shoot me?" Snape hissed. Samara's grip on the gun was firm but she didn't move. Snape's lip curled. "You've been ordered to keep everyone alive."

"Don't you read my mind!" Samara barked. "If I were to shoot you now, there's a good chance the bullet might go right through and hurt your little friend. Unless you surrender, which- frankly- I'm really hoping you don't do. I've been waiting to kill you for a while."

"Just do it already!" Jason cried, his voice high. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Come on- do it!"

"Try it then," Snape spat.

"Wait- wait-" The hostage woman behind him finally spoke up, her voice cracking. "Maybe- maybe you should- you should listen to her-"

"Would you shut it?" Snape snapped at her. "This is not your place to-"

"For heavens sake, kill him or I will!" Jason screamed.

"Mr- please-" the hostage woman whimpered.

"I told you to SHUT IT!"

"But maybe we should-"

"Holy crap, Chief, would you just DO IT! He's the guy- he's the GUY! HE'S THE GUY WHO ATTACKED THE LIEUTENANT!" Jason suddenly bellowed.

There was a ringing silence from the entire store. Snape glowered and clenched his teeth. Slowly, her lip curling, Samara lowered the gun.

"Really. Well. That makes things a bit different, doesn't it? If I'd known your beef was with us _personally_, I would've taken a different approach," Samara whispered.

She licked her lips and then, inhaling, screamed over her shoulder. "OI! LIEUTENANT!"

He was there in less than a second. Krueger slid around the corner behind Samara and made immediate eye-contact with Snape. It was hard to tell which one of them was giving off more venomous glare.

"Well," the Lieutenant snarled. He flexed the knives on his glove threateningly. "Look who it is. You got beef with us?"

"Yeah, you got any beef?" Jason added on.

"If by that you mean 'do I have any problems with you'? then, yes...several,"

"Then why drag the poor girl into this?" the Chief cooed.

Snape's heart skipped a beat. "Girl? What girl?"

"Oh, geez, I dunno, how about the girl behind your arm, dumbass!" Samara snapped. "If you have a problem with us, then why is she in the middle of it all?"

"Technically, we're the ones who took her hos-"

"Shut up, Commander,"

"Yes, Chief,"

Still waggling his blades, Krueger sauntered forward with one hand in his trouser pocket, smirking.

"If your problem with us is that we've taken hostages, then the hostages don't have to get hurt. Give her to the Chief," he said.

Snape's grip on the woman's arm tightened, holding her closer to him. He said nothing and neither did anyone else. The Lieutenant exchanged a look of raised eyebrows with the Chief and then they simultaneously glowered at Snape.

"Come on, bring her here," Samara whispered. "I promise I won't hurt her. Come on. Come here, dear. You can trust me."

Snape glanced over his shoulder, down at the hostage, but she was still crying and he looked away quickly, blinking the image out of his head. Crying helped nothing in a situation like this. It just displayed weakness to the enemy.

From underneath the curtain of hair, Snape watched an ugly smile stretch across Samara's face as she made a beckoning motion with a finger.

"Come here, honey. Come on. Do you wanna go home? I can get you home,"

Snape's mind made several calculations at the speed of light as his brain processed the coaxing and his eyes simultaneously focused on the gun in Samara's hands, which was steadily lowering.

The scowl on his face faded in an instant as he realized that the hostage woman was no longer peering around his body- but rather her entire head was visible under his arm, and she was beginning to move forward.

Snape's eyes moved from the barrel of the gun, directly to the woman's head.

What happened next was a blur. The shotgun was fired but Snape threw the hostage onto the floor to the left- out of range- shooting a blast of red sparks at Samara, who ducked and rolled, just as the Commander gave a high pitched scream and fell to the ground clutching his knee. The hostage woman shrieked and assumed fetal position while Samara continued to fire shots at Snape.

Flicking his wand to the side, he stopped the bullets in mid-air by some invisible net and then flicked again, sending them back. The bullets ricocheted and punctured plastic toys on the aisle walls. He made a swiping movement with his left hand and Samara was thrown to the shelves and pinned there, dropping her gun.

She screamed and writhed, held by an invisible force as the Lieutenant began to charge, raising his bladed hand. But Snape jerked his head and he was pushed hard to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Thrusting his left hand to the other side, the Chief flew from the right shelf to the wall with a horrible thud and fell to the floor.

Snape aimed his wand at the gun on the floor and it burst into flames. He noticed the Lieutenant staggering to his feet, crying out in a strangled voice past Snape's head.

"Captain- Captain- drive away- get out-"

Snape spun round to see that Torrance had slid into the Party City, and was watching with an open mouth. He stared from Jason on the floor, still clutching his knee, to the cowering hostage woman, to Snape and began to back away slowly.

"CAPTAIN! GO!" The Lieutenant fell to the floor again, clutching his stomach, still gasping out.

The Captain turned and broke into a run towards the door again and Snape pointed his wand at him, but he suddenly groaned out as he felt two arms and legs wrap around his neck. His vision was blurred by more black hair that wasn't his: the Chief has jumped onto his back.

Snape and the Chief flailed around the aisle as the world swayed under his feet. He was feeling more and more nauseous as she strangled him and he was losing oxygen by the second. He backed her into an shelf and she shrieked as he kept knocking her against it- but he was being overwhelmed by the blockage and he was very light-headed and very sleepy...

His eyelids drooped shut and he slumped slightly...just falling on the cusp of unconsciousness...and with a trembling hand, he grasped Samara's hands and jerked back both of his shoulders at once.

By another invisible force, she was thrown from his back and against the shelf, rolling off one of the lower shelves.

Snape's knees buckled and he collapsed forward on his hands, coughing and gasping for air. He focused on the hostage woman who decided this was her chance to run from the aisle, dodging a whimpering Jason, who was bleeding rather profusely. The world stopped spinning and Snape caught his breath- just as Samara kicked him in the head.

The world was spinning again.

"I did not come-" she snarled, repeatedly kicking, knocking him down every time he began to get up. His wand was knocked from his hand. "-all the way to New York AGAIN, with these creeps AGAIN just to get my ass kicked by some freak in a Charles Dickens costume!"

Snape was sure that his hearing was starting to vanish, and he was starting to lose it- as he had no idea who Charles Dickens was. He was feeling sleepier with every sharp kick she gave his head.

She stamped on his hand and he yelled in pain as she put pressure on it. Slowly, she knelt down and picked up his wand, analyzing it with a calculating expression. Then, she smirked and aimed it down at Snape's face.

"Let _me_ try this thing for once..."

"CHIEF! LEAVE HIM!"

The triumphant look on her face vanished as she turned back to the Lieutenant, who was breathing normally again. He flew past them and started helping the Commander to his feet.

"Come on- we can still get out!" he said. He and the Commander limped past and down the aisle hurriedly. Both Snape and Samara's attention were turned to the door.

He gasped as she got off his hand and backed away. Her eyes grew large and she gritted her teeth.

"Perfect timing,"

The glass doors busted open and about eight men in black SWAT uniforms with heavy machine guns came streaming in. Four went to the hostages but four had their sights on Samara.

She continued to walk backwards down the aisle but took off into a run, Snape's wand still in hand.

Snape clambered to his feet and scowling, he raised an arm and focused on her. She continued to sprint away but as if in slow motion, the shelf to the right of her teetered and tipped over her, connecting with the other wall with an ear-shattering bang.

Samara has fallen to the floor, shielding her head. The heavy toys, stacks of paper dishes, and piles of boxes of inflatables rolled off the shelf and mounted under the small crevice between the fallen shelf and floor, completely covering her.

The SWAT men behind Snape backtracked but he strode towards her, hand still raised. Samara's form burst through the pile of objects and was pulled towards Snape across the floor, flailing and screaming. The SWAT men raised their guns and Snape jerked his head upwards.

Shrieking like an ungodly monster from the very pits of hell itself, the Chief was lifted into the air once more and flew against the fallen shelf, tumbling into the next aisle over.

Snape walked down the aisle and picked up his wand, which had fallen while the Chief was waving her arms in the air.

He straightened his coat and wiped fresh blood from his nose as he turned. All four of the SWAT men were staring at him, dumbfounded, their jaws hanging open.

"What're you looking at?" he snapped. "She's in the next aisle. Go catch her. Do your job, don't gawk at me like codfish."

The men looked awkwardly at one another and nodded before running past him and jumping into the next aisle through the gap where the shelf used to be.

Snape watched as the hostages at the front were hurried through the door by four SWAT agents.

Tucking away his wand, he rubbed his eyes and slumped against the wall exhaustedly and coughed a bit of blood into his sleeve. His head was in one of his hands as his temple pounded,and the world beginning to sway again.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand to his head and began muttering a spell that caused the pounding to cease and his vision to right itself.

However, he didn't see Ethan Hunt enter the Party City with Gwen on his tail, and they didn't see _him_.

Gwen had still been sitting on the pavement when the Jack Torrance had suddenly burst out of the store, jumped into his car, and started driving away- almost causing several accidents in his escape.

She had been helpless to stop it but felt immediate relief when the two black IMF vans had pulled up a few minutes later. When Ethan had hopped out of the first van with a team, she immediately showed him the photo she had taken of the license plate and Ethan handed it into the van so they could track the car.

Gwen had lifted her goggles into her forehead she entered the Party City with him. She stayed as close to him as possible, holding her baseball bat high. Ethan, wearing a grey suit with a black shirt and grey tie, had his handgun out.

"I am so sorry I didn't come sooner-" he said breathlessly. "I had to convince Hunley-"

"It's okay," Gwen said but her voice trembled. "We got all the hostages right?"

"Right. Why weren't you back at the Starbucks like I told you?"

"I'm sorry- I was in shock, okay- I panicked- Did we get the monsters?"

"I think they ran through the back. Stay here, I'm gonna go and check, alright?"

"I- I can't stay here-"

"I'll be only a second, okay?" Ethan clapped a hand on Gwen's shoulder and jogged down the aisle.

She nodded, swallowing, and backed up against the cashier counter, boosting herself up so that she could sit upon it.

She stared around at store, watching New York police officers start to enter and do their own examination, followed closely by an IMF SWAT agent who clearly didn't want them there.

Kicking her feet back and forth, her eyes scanned the aisles for Snape. Had he followed the monsters through the back like Ethan had?

"Mmmmf!"

Ice ran up Gwen's spine and she looked around wildly. Someone had made a small noise not too far from her. A noise that sounded like they were struggling.

Gwen held up the bat and her heart pounded. Maybe it was just her imagination- it was just the stress-

"Mmmmf! Mmmmf!"

The noises were close and with a feeling of dread, she realized they were right behind her.

Slowly, shaking, she hopped off of the counter and began to stalk around it, raising her bat.

Tiptoeing as she did while approaching Jack Torrance's car, she held her breath as she rounded the counter and snuck behind it.

There were two women there, both below the cashier counter, hidden from sight. One woman was facing the hostage woman, who being held against the counter wall. The hostage had the other woman's hand pressed against her mouth and a knife at her throat.

There were two women there, both below the cashier counter, hidden from sight. One woman was facing the hostage woman, who being held against the counter wall. The hostage had the other woman's hand pressed against her mouth and a knife at her throat.

The woman holding her there was kneeling in a white dress with long black hair that stretched down her back.

Gwen mind put two-and-two together and suddenly, before she realized what she was doing, her anxiety took over.

Using all her strength, she brought her baseball bat down hard on the back Samara's head with a horrible thud.

The Chief yelped and she spun round, grasping her head with one hand, staring with her one visible wide eye into Gwen's, who could feel her heart ready to stop. She felt like vomiting. But neither of them moved. At this point, Gwen forgot how to move.

"Hello again," the Chief whispered. She began to rise to full height and Gwen watched, paralyzed. "What a lovely coincidence this is. You just made my life so much easier."

"HEY!"

The Chief swung around again and Ethan had returned in the nick of time with the group of SWAT agents who had been searching for the monsters. They began to surround the counter.

Gwen looked at the sobbing hostage who was under the counter and that was when her jaw dropped. The hostage woman in the business suit was the exact same woman who had berated her outside of the Dunkin' Donuts just two days earlier.

But with her guard lowered, the Chief grasped the baseball bat and wrenched it from her hands. She grabbed Gwen's arm and threw her in front, pressing the tip of the knife to her cheek. Gasping out from shock, hot tears immediately spilled from Gwen's eyes.

"Come on then!" the Chief snarled. "Try me."

Ethan and the agents kept their guns trained on her but Ethan kept eye contact with Gwen, who was praying rapidly under her breath, pressed against Samara's front. She thought her heart was going to explode.

"Let her go, I don't want to have to resort to violence," Ethan said calmly.

"Then you need a new profession," the Chief said. "We've been over this already."

"That's because you keep breaking the law,"

"I have orders from the General to take this one."

"Why?"

"Um, I don't think that's any of your business,"

She pressed Gwen closer to her and through her overwhelming fear, she could smell something an odd and watery from the Chief's hair and it made her more nauseous than the knife stabbing her cheek.

Ethan stepped forward.

"It's my business when it's endangering lives of the civilians of this city,"

"Yeah, well, she's not a civilian!" the Chief snapped. "She's an All-Knower! Aren't you, Alice?"

A million things were going through Gwen's head and she was trembling so hard it was difficult for her to separate them. And as she stared at Ethan, it was easy to see he was probably thinking about the same things she was. The Chief pressed the knife a bit harder and Gwen gasped.

"You...you must be the Ring-Girl," Ethan said.

"I'm the Chief. Samara Morgan. Or Sadaku, if you're feeling smarter than you probably are," the Chief responded.

"Okay...Samara. I don't want to shoot you,"

Gwen did. Being held by the monster filled her with enough horror that she wished she could pull out a gun and put a hole in the Chief's head right now. Why didn't Ethan see these people for the horrible things that they were? Why did Samara deserve a chance?

"Would you please give us the girl?" Ethan said. "No harm will come to you."

"Geez, you could be a politician with lies like that,"

"I'm serious,"

"So am I. The girl comes with me, you got that?" the Chief barked.

She began to shuffle out from behind the counter, dragging Gwen with her, who still stared at Ethan, silently begging.

_Ethan, do something. Do something. Just shoot her. Somebody just shoot her. _

The guns lowered. The Chief and Gwen continued to move by them, towards the aisles.

Ethan couldn't let her take her- he couldn't- he wouldn't-

But Ethan slowly raised his gun again, locking eyes with Gwen as they almost neared the closest aisle. And suddenly, she noticed that there was movement behind him.

The knife at Gwen's cheek drew away and the grip on her arm vanished as the movement behind Ethan slowly grew a face Gwen recognized.

A hand pushed her forward and she fell to the floor on her stomach. She gasped out and looked up to see the Chief was now scaling the nearest shelf like an acrobat.

"STOP HER! STOP HER!" Ethan cried.

Gwen covered her ears in fetal position as gunshots rang out. The Chief swung up onto the top of the shelf, dodging bullets and sprinting across the top of the shelf and out of sight.

"Go, go, go!" Ethan shouted to the agents and they nodded and disappeared into the aisles to chase her. He raced to Gwen and helped her to her feet. "Here we go- easy- there we are-"

"H-He- kn-knows-" Gwen spluttered out through tears as Ethan tried to hold her steady. "H-Hannibal kno-knows I- I-I'm an- an- All-"

"We're not gonna focus on that right now, okay? Come on, I'll help you outside and then I'll come back for the last hostage."

Gwen looked behind Ethan and watched as Snape, who had been secretly examining the situation, swept from the store, despite the protesting officers.

Tearing her eyes away from him, she nodded shakily, crying silently, and Ethan held her shoulders and led her outside of the ruined store.


	6. Enter All-Knower

Once Ethan had led Gwen outside, they were met up by his best friend Benji Dunn, who took Gwen and kindly led her over to one of the black vans they had arrived in.

The two sat in the open door of the van together as Ethan retreated back inside the Party City. Benji took Gwen's backpack for her and wrapped her with a warm blanket. They watched the different forms of chaos surround them as he proceeded to tell dry sarcastic jokes that had her laughing through her tears.

The IMF had blocked off the street completely, assessing the hostages one by one with the help of the Manhattan police.

"Help" was a term used lightly as most of them were simply arguing about who should've gone to the scene of the crime and who should've been taking in hostages for questioning. Not to mention the amount of reporters who, of course, had flocked to the area. People were rushing around wildly, demanding questions of all kinds.

Benji bounced the Spider-Gwen backpack on his legs and adjusted his large black glasses. "It's nice to see you again," he sighed and smiled. Gwen back smiled shyly, wiping her eyes with a still-trembling hand.

"It's really nice to see you too," And she meant it.

Just then, Ethan returned from the Party city with the businesswoman, who looked almost as bad as Gwen did. They ran towards the van, avoiding police officers and reporters. Ethan was terrific at avoiding arguments by simply raising his hand and probably did so four times on his way to the van.

"Okay, so I want you to head to the left that way, there some more people who should be able to help you out," Ethan was instructing. He began to lead her to the left but the businesswoman kept approaching Gwen and Benji on shaking legs.

"Y-you," the woman addressed Gwen. "You saved my life."

Gwen blinked. "Oh. Yeah,"

"I swear, I- I've seen you before,"

"Um...You ranted at me and told me I did drugs. Outside of a Dunkin' Donuts," Gwen said calmly, a bit numb in emotion but strong enough to show signs of slight bitterness.

The businesswoman squinted. "Oh, really? Are- are you sure? A nice girl like you?"

Gwen nodded silently.

"Well, I-don't- I don't remember that- but- but, thank you anyways," the businesswoman said. An awkward smile flickered on Gwen's face.

"You're welcome,"

And the businesswoman left in the direction Ethan had pointed to. Ethan folded his arms and both he and Benji stared at Gwen, who shrugged.

"It's a long story,"

"She told you that you did drugs?" Ethan asked.

"_Do_ you do drugs?" Benji added. "I mean, we have to ask, don't be offended-"

"No. Of course she wouldn't remember saying that. There are so many rude people like that at my school." Gwen sighed. "But at least she's alive. That's good."

She leaned forward to see if she could spot the businesswoman exiting the area but instead she managed to spot Snape, who was arguing with a police officer right at the edge of the barricade. She gasped and threw the blanket off her shoulders.

"Here- Hold these-" she said, removing her swimming goggles and handing them off to Benji.

She bounded across the area, ignoring Ethan's cries for her to come back, a large grin on her face as she neared Snape and the police officer.

Snape was looking more tired than Gwen had seen him that morning. His eyes looked almost more bloodshot and he seemed paler. But that did not hinder the scowl that grew across his face when Gwen marched up beside him.

"Hey, um, officer," Gwen said bashfully. "It's okay. He can stay. He's with me."

"Oh, he has to stay," the officer said, hands on her hips. "That's the problem. _He_ doesn't feel like he has to stay."

"I have no business here and no reason to be questioned," Snape said, still glaring at Gwen.

"Everyone who was in that building there has to be questioned, you got that?" the officer said.

"I was never in there," Snape said calmly. "I was minding my own business, passing by, and I was stopped. Like I've told you...twice now."

Snape was an expert liar. But even Gwen couldn't understand why he was even bothering to try and talk his way out of this. He had clearly left the building while officers had watched.

The officer and Snape continued to argue and Gwen took it as an opportunity to remove her yellow rain-jacket and tie it around her waist. She had realized how warm she was and even her thin button-up sweater was a bit too much.

She sighed and looked at her feet as the officer and Snape snarled and snapped at each other. One of the SWAT agents jogged up to join them.

"Hey, hey," He tapped on Snape's shoulder and Snape flinched slightly at the action. "Sorry, um, I just wanted to say, what you did in there was _wild. _I mean, it was unbelievable. That was some Avengers-level shit."

The officer raised an eyebrow at Snape, who was looking murderous. Gwen raised her own eyebrows and asked-

"What...did you do?"

"None of your business," Snape hissed at her. "Officer, I have somewhere I have to be so if you don't mind I-"

"Actually, I do mind. It's the law. I need you to stay," She gestured to Gwen. "And this girl here says she knows you so I believe that you have a reason to stay."

"Of course," Snape said through his teeth as the officer finally walked away.

He glared venomously at the SWAT agent who gulped and backtracked away. Then, he faced Gwen and wiped his eyes.

"What do _you_ want?"

"I- I hit Samara Morgan in the head with a baseball bat," Gwen said quietly.

"Who?"

"The...the girl from 'The Ring'. That's her name, I guess. It's a horror movie and I just found out her name. She's the one who can go through TVs and stuff. She said she was a Chief. She works with Hannibal,"

"Ah. Yes," Snape then blinked and frowned. "And...you...hit her in the head..." He cocked an eyebrow. "...with a baseball bat."

"Yeah," Gwen said breathlessly, bouncing. "Yeah. I did." A grinned twitched her mouth and half-shaking, she cried- "Yeah, I did! I hit her in the head with a baseball bat!"

"And where exactly is this baseball bat?"

"Oh, it's still in the store- oh- Oh! Never mind! Look! That SWAT guy is giving it to Ethan!"

She pointed over at Ethan, Benji, and two SWAT agents, one of them being the man who had just complimented Snape. The four of them were all staring with identical bewildered expressions.

She waved in order to reassure them that she was fine. Snape wrinkled his nose.

"Who is...Ethan?"

"He's the one in the grey suit and the glasses," Gwen said. "And Benji's the one with the red hair. I called them."

"_You_ called them?"

"Yeah. After you left the Starbucks. They work with the IMF. They've been hunting Hannibal and the monsters for about two years now and because I'm a...you know...they've recruited me to help catch them,"

Snape furrowed his brow further at her. "And when did this happen?"

"Two days ago. Same day I met you," Gwen bit her bottom lip and looked at her toes. She took in a deep breath and looking back up, blurted out- "How did you recognize Jack Torrance?"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Come on, don't try that. Remember, when you saw him, you instantly left the Starbucks to chase after him. And- and in the Charactia Center, Jason said that he recognized you. And- AND- Jack Torrance is supposed to be dead," She then lowered her voice. "Like someone else that I know."

Snape shifted uncomfortably and Gwen saw him twitch at the neck slightly. "Is it any of your business of how I know them?" he whispered.

"Aha! So you _do_ know them!"

There was a vein pulsating in Snape's temple and when Gwen noticed it, she immediately felt nauseous. She didn't know you could actually see something like that.

"Listen," She kept her voice quiet, aware of people staring and attempting to listen. "If you have connections with them, I think it could really help us fight Hannibal and the others. If you came with us to the IMF-"

"No,"

"-you could tell us how you know them-"

"MacMillan, I said no,"

"- we'll have a huge advantage-"

"I said NO!"

Gwen flinched and took a step backwards. Her heart had been slowing down and but it restarted at a high speed again.

Snape was panting slightly, his eyes wide and the madness behind them that Gwen had seen when they first met had returned. She saw some movement in his cheek and he bent over to the side, spitting blood onto the pavement.

Gwen's nausea increased and Snape looked a bit woozy himself as he straightened back up.

"I will not involve myself in some Muggle organization and risk exposing my world,"

"But-"

"Is everything alright over here?"

Snape and Gwen both ceased the conversation in an instant as Ethan arrived. He handed Gwen her baseball bat and pushed his glasses up, examining Snape.

"Who, uh, are you talking to?"

"Oh, Ethan, this-" She exhaled and grinned excitedly. "This is Professor Severus Snape."

"Professor, huh?" Ethan asked. "What, uh, what are you a professor of exactly?"

"It's private," Snape said, staring down at Ethan with a face that perfectly defined the word 'disapproval'.

"Private?"

"Well, um, Ethan, most of your life is private," Gwen added quickly. "Right? You two are really similar actually. I mean, you're both pretty private and you're both agen- I mean- um- shoot-"

Snape's glare was becoming more severe and Gwen bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut. She had already said too much. If she wanted Snape to help, she'd have to adhere to his wishes. Those wishes being- 'No one can know anything about me. Ever.' She squinted nervously.

"An agent? You're an agent?" Ethan asked.

Snape took in a deep breath, obviously to prevent himself from cursing Ethan where he stood. "I _was_ an agent,"

"Who were you with? MI6, I'm guessing based on the accent. Unless you were IMF, because we got Benji over there who-"

"I am not IMF,"

"Oh,"

"So who are you exactly and why should I waste my time talking with you?"

Ethan's mouth opened slightly in surprise and Gwen looked at the sky, squeezing her eyes shut again. She wasn't surprised that this was how this conversation was going, just disappointed.

"I- I'm Ethan Hunt. I _do_ work with the IMF and I'm in charge of this situation,"

Snape's lip curled as he glanced around at the mayhem. "You're doing a...fantastic job,"

Ethan's eyebrows were travelling further and further up his forehead. He looked down at Gwen, who gave a smile that she knew looked like a grimace, and then back at Snape. "So how long have you two known each other?"

"Actually we, um, met the same day I met you," she said. "But I've known him for about, um, seven books and eight movies."

"So are you two friends?" Ethan's voice was suspicious and Gwen knew he had watched her and Snape argue.

"No. Although, she may be having a difficult time processing such a concept. But since she revealed to be...what she is, she seems to think that she's...entitled to my companionship."

As he spoke, Snape's eyes narrowed and travelled to Gwen, who felt herself shrink. How was it that she knew he would be this mean and yet, when he spoke, she felt each word sting?

She clenched her fists and raised her chin. In a burst of anger and stress, she said- "Snape knows the monsters. He took them down back in Charactia Center and Jason recognized him. He went into the Party City to fight them."

"Lucas over there just mentioned something like that, you know," Ethan said, ignoring the newfound flush in Snape's cheeks. "He said you're the one who knocked over all those shelves. And he said you dragged that girl- Samara- across the floor without ever touching her and-"

"Wait, seriously?" Gwen marvelled. She was deeply sorry that she missed that.

"So you have powers," Ethan said. "And I take it where you got those powers are private."

"You've finally said something intelligent," Snape said.

"And Jason was afraid of him!" Gwen piped up quickly. "When he chased me in the Center that time, remember? So not only does Snape know the monsters, they're _afraid_ of him. I think..." Snape was shaking his head to try and stop her but she continued. "I think he could really help us fight Hannibal and the others."

Ethan looked Snape up and down and gave a quick grin. He put a hand on Gwen's shoulder. "Um, could you give us a second?"

Snape opened his mouth, most likely to say something extremely sarcastic, but Ethan turned Gwen and led her a few feet away.

"Gwen, who is this guy?" he whispered.

"I told you. He's Professor Severus Snape,"

"Really. Because that's not what you told me when you showed me that video of him closing that weird Upside-Down portal,"

"How did you-"

"I'm in the IMF for a _reason_. There aren't a lot of people out there with hair and capes like that," Ethan sighed. "Where did you find this guy?"

"At the Center. He lives here in New York,"

"Yes, but where does he come from? What's his story?"

"Huh?"

"You said he's featured in, what? Seven books back in your world?"

"And eight movies," Gwen added quickly. "And a stage play that the fandom can't decide on but I'm guessing, based on him living here, it's not canon. I get he's kinda suspicious-looking and he's not very nice but he's a good person. He really is. You don't have to trust him but I do and I'm...you know. So shouldn't that be good enough?"

Ethan glanced over at Snape, who was giving him an cold calculating expression, and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "Look, Gwen, it's not that I don't trust him, it's just that..." He sighed at the sky. "Look, Gwen, I don't trust him."

"You don't have to. Heck, 'not trusting people' is probably one of the only things you and Snape have in common," Gwen pressed on. "But _I_ trust him. I know who he is and his story and I can confidently tell you that he's a good person. He's just rough around the edges. And he knows these monsters."

There was brief pause between them as Ethan's hands went to his hips. "I can't just bring in people willy-nilly,"

"He's got super cool powers, too. You saw that video I lied to you about," Gwen added. She was practically begging now. "Please, Ethan, he can really help. Please?"

He sighed once more and nodded tiredly. "Okay. We'll give it a shot," The two marched back up to Snape. "Alright, Professor...Snape. Since you have information that could prove useful, you're going to have to come with us back to headquarters and-"

"I'd rather not,"

"This isn't a request," Ethan said.

They stared each other down for a few seconds while Gwen chewed her nails. Her attention turned to the doors of the Party City, however, when two agents walked out with grim expressions and a stretcher.

"Oh my gosh- oh no-" Gwen instantly turned away and covered her eyes when she recognized that the lump was clearly a body. Ethan and Snape looked over.

"What happened?" Ethan called.

"Found this guy with a bullet through his head and claw marks across his chest in the back room," one agent called back. "He seemed to be trying to climb down a trapdoor of some kind. We think it leads to the sewers."

Claw marks. Freddy Krueger had been here. Gwen closed her eyes and tried to forget what she had seen, which was impossible for her. She didn't want to cry anymore but she could feel the tears coming.

"Take it back to headquarters," Ethan sighed. "We'll have Abbey look at it. Then, gather a crew and scope out the sewers. But be careful, there could still be a monster down there."

The agents and doctors nodded, leading the body stretcher away.

Gwen slowly turned but kept a hand over her eyes to prevent herself from seeing the body being rolled away. "Who's Abbey?"

"She's our head medical examiner and coroner. I'll take you to meet her when we get to headquarters,"

"I'm not going into a morgue,"

Snape rolled his eyes. "They aren't people anymore. They're just shells,"

"They LOOK like people, okay?" Gwen snapped. "I don't like bodies and I don't like autopsies. Or gore. Or blood."

"Ethan!" Benji suddenly yelped from the van he and Gwen had been sitting in. "Ethan, we have a problem!"

Ethan, Snape, and Gwen exchanged glances and made their way over to the van. The back was open to reveal a large array of technological boards and computers, hooked up to the inside of the van. Benji, now casually wearing Gwen's backpack, was working with a second hacker at the computer. He was pointing at the main computer screen, which was hooked up to Gwen's phone, where a small yellow dot was frozen on a green map.

"There- see that- that's the license plate that Gwen here took a photo of,"

"Okay, so the car stopped," Ethan said, leaning over the other hacker's shoulder to get a better look. "We can catch it, it's just outside of the Manhattan border."

Snape leaned in and Gwen's heart stuttered when she could feel his breath on her neck. She looked over at him and his gaze was darting from monitor to monitor, wire to wire, his eyes narrowing as he examined the technology.

"That's what we thought too," Benji said. "Until- click that there, Jim, no that one, there- we saw this."

The monitor on the right sprang to life and Gwen saw Snape jump. His expression seemed almost unintelligible but in his eyes, Gwen could see something like admiration for the technology.

The monitor on the right showed a black-and-white security camera view of a highway where cars zoomed back and forth. But in the very center of the road lay a neglected license plate.

"They must've discarded it specifically for us to see," Ethan breathed. "They must know we've got access to all the traffic cameras. But how did they know they were tracking us. You got the picture."

Benji held up Gwen's phone to show the photo she had taken. "Yes, but the man who owns the car saw her,"

"That's Jack Torrance. He's the guy I told you about who went crazy in the haunted hotel and supposedly froze to death,"

"Supposedly?" Snape questioned.

"Well, he looks pretty thaw to me," Gwen groaned. "I made up an excuse. Something about a school project- don't look at me like that, I was freaking out! I thought he bought it! I had my goggles on. Maybe he didn't recognize me like Samara did."

Ethan made a wave with his hand and the hacker began to close down the computers. "Let's get to headquarters as fast as we can and discuss this more there. Come on, get in the van."

Benji handed Gwen back her backpack and Ethan handed her back the baseball bat. She shot a grin at Snape as she climbed into the van and he gave a very blatant eye-roll in return.

He attempted to turn and leave but Ethan, who was climbing into the passenger's seat, shot him a raised eyebrow and suddenly, Snape was shoved into a bench seat crammed between Gwen and Benji.

Privately, Gwen wouldn't have wanted it any other way. She smiled up at him but looked away when he scowled. Settling her bat at her feet and her pack on her lap, she unzipped it and reached in, clearing her throat.

"Um, Snape-"

"I don't want to talk to you," Snape muttered, his eyes lingering longingly at the world outside of the windows.

An armoured guard with dark sunglasses climbed into the driver's seat and the van began to pull away from the Party City.

"But I grabbed your sandwich-"

"I said I don't...want...to...talk," he hissed at her and gulping, Gwen zipped her backpack up again.

Ethan had been watching over his shoulder and he gave Gwen a look that said- 'This guy better be worth it.'

"So...Gwen...you said that this Samara Morgan recognized you?" Benji asked, leaning forward so he could look at Gwen.

"Yeah, but she called her 'Alice'," Ethan explained. "Does that name mean anything to you?"

"Well, there is Alice Kingsleigh," Gwen said.

"Who?"

"You know. 'Alice in Wonderland'. She's the main character,"

They were all staring at her. Gwen's eyebrows flew up her forehead. "You guys don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Oh, no, we do," Benji stammered. "But it was sort of a cautionary tale here."

"Wonderland exists on Disney Planet." Ethan explained.

Gwen blinked. "Disney...Planet? What's Disney _Planet_?"

Benji gasped. "What's Disney Planet?! It's only the most famous and most incredible theme park planet in all of Charactia! It's so expensive though, only the rich and famous really get to go. But everyone wants to!"

Snape raised his eyebrow at Gwen and Ethan said- "So you said her name was Alice...Kingsleigh?"

"Well, I mean, there are so many movie versions of 'Alice in Wonderland' back home. Personally, I prefer the live-action 2010 one. I really connected with Alice. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was because she was seen as weird in this conforming society...and that's sorta how I feel at school. And I mean, most of my favourite actors are in the 2010 version." She had to fight the urge not to look at Snape.

"So why did Samara call you 'Alice'?"

"I don't know. But...what I want to know is...how did she know I was an All-Knower?" She began to shake again. "And- and if Hannibal wants me- then- then how did _he_ find out?"

"I dunno," Ethan said. "But if Lecter knows about what you are and he wants you, that can only mean that he intends to get information from you."

"I don't think he knows that All-Knowers don't actually know... everything," Gwen said, now shaking again at just the concept that Hannibal Lecter wanted her for information. "B-but he's brilliant. That's- that's his thing. He's supposed to be one of the smartest movie villains of all time. So...m-maybe he figured it out on his own."

She drew a shuddering breath and began to clutch her limbs as if to make sure they were there. Her eyes drifted to Snape but he said nothing. There was a soft seething feeling emanating off of him and it was obvious he was very angry with her.

"It would make sense. You reacted pretty strongly to him the first time you saw him," Ethan said.

"Don't remind me," Gwen mumbled.

There was a short silence in the van as it made its way down the street to where the IMF New York branch sat at the end. Benji cleared his throat and turned to Snape, smiling and extending a hand.

"I don't believe we've introduced. I'm Benjamin Dunn but you can call me 'Benji', everyone does,"

"I don't care,"

"Ohhhhkay," and Benji took his hand back.

The van pulled to a stop in front of the great cement staircase that led to the tall concrete and glass building. Ethan, Benji, Gwen, and Snape all climbed out while Ethan ordered the driver to take the hacker- who had been sitting in the trunk- and computers around to the back.

As the van pulled away, Gwen watched Snape's head incline upwards as he analyzed the tall building. She adjusted her backpack and shouldered her bat.

"Everyone thinks they're CIA," she said with a small smile.

He didn't respond. Rather, his eyes flickered towards her with a small frown before striding towards the building. Exhaling, Gwen followed him up the brown concrete stairs.

"He's not very talkative, is he?" Benji whispered, appearing beside her with Ethan.

"He's just mad at me,"

"Why?"

Gwen sighed. "Gosh, where do I begin?"

"He'll get over it," Benji added.

Ethan gave a hollow laugh. "Does he look like the kind of guy who gets over stuff? Has he always been like this?"

They began to mount the second flight of stairs towards the IMF headquarters. Gwen took a moment to figure out how she should answer.

"I mean...yeah. He's never exactly been a...people person. But I mean, geniuses rarely are, right?"

"You think he's a genius?"

Gwen wanted to kick herself when she felt her cheeks burn. She looked away from Ethan instantly and took immediate interest in some of the bushes planted along the stairs. She didn't answer him.

When they entered the gigantic lobby of the New York IMF headquarters, Gwen almost ran directly into Snape, as he had stopped abruptly near doorway. The pink in her cheeks darkened noticeably.

Snape was staring at the entrance customs with his mouth slightly open and it was difficult to tell if he was frustrated or thoroughly fascinated. Knowing him, Gwen figured he was probably feeling both. Ethan passed by towards the metal detectors, taking his gun out of his pocket.

"You don't mind going through customs, do you?"

Snape's jaw tightened. "Of course not,"

He flashed another scowl at Gwen who gave an uncomfortable grin. Then, he swept off towards the customs and Gwen began to take off her backpack again.

The customs were easy for her, as she had done them when she first arrived. She let the guards check her Spider-Gwen pack, her bat, her yellow rain jacket, her goggles, and her phone without trouble. In fact, the only thing the guard really said to her was- "You got a lot of stuff in here," to which Gwen promptly replied with- "I like to be prepared."

In less than about two minutes, she, Ethan, and Benji were all through. However, it took Snape a little longer.

Even though all he had on his person was his wand, the guards- of course- didn't recognize what it was and Snape- of course- refused to tell them, simply telling them that it was a tool he used and it was made entirely of wood. They started to argue and just as Snape started to use the word "Muggle" in a negative sense, Gwen stepped in and vouched for him, playing the All-Knower card.

The metal detector was a new problem because not only was Snape examining it as though he had never seen one before (and there was a good chance he hadn't) but he was also flinching at every beep it made as if it would suddenly attack him. He was attempting to touch it and prod it and it would beep in protest. And then, when the face scanner popped out, he actually jumped backwards out of the machine.

Ethan and Benji exchanged raised eyebrows and then simultaneously looked at Gwen, who gave them another uncomfortable grin.

Despite how terrifying Snape managed to be for the majority of the time, here Gwen felt he looked a lot like a child exploring a large empty house for the first time.

He most definitely realized this because once he was able to stand still long enough for the detector to scan his face and prove that he wasn't wearing a mask, Snape smoothed his coat and raised his chin. He walked out with gravitas and pretended like nothing had happened. Then, he snatched up his wand and pocketed it.

"You good?" Ethan asked, eyebrows still raised.

"Where exactly are we headed?" Snape said, blatantly ignoring the question.

Handing off a look of disapproval at Gwen, Ethan waved a hand for the group to follow him towards the escalators.

"We have to take an elevator down the morgue to alert Abbey that she's got a body coming in," Seeing the wide eyes on Gwen's face, he quickly added in- "Don't worry, I won't make you go in. I also think it's best if we get you guys introduced,"

He glanced quickly at Snape before he and Benji stepped onto the escalators and rode upwards. Snape's eyes traveled down and became fixated on the moving staircase. He stood, still as a statue, clearly trying to figure out the best course of action to get on it. Gwen cleared her throat awkwardly.

"You- um- might wanna lift your cloak because if it gets caught-"

"I'm fine," Snape hissed.

He lifted a foot and stayed frozen like that a few seconds more before inhaling deeply through his large nostrils and stepping onto the escalator. Gwen did not step on but she watched him slowly move up, breathing slowly as if in relief.

"Oh gosh-" she suddenly gasped. "Snape-"

"Wha- ACH-"

Snape was yanked backwards by his neck and shoulders and Gwen watched as the hem of his cloak was suddenly caught in the first part of the escalator, holding him back. Gwen screamed and ran forward but she wasn't sure how to help. Snape growled and snarled, pulling back on his cloak but he kept moving towards the gap. He was cursing and spluttering.

"Oh gosh- is there an off-button?" Gwen said, waving her hands back and forth, staring around wildly. "Someone- hey- hey- is there an off-button? We need help- hey!"

"Shut- up!" Snaps managed to choke out as he continued to yank his cloak back. "I- don't- need- help!"

Finally, with a trembling hand, he snatched his wand out from underneath the part of his cloak that wasn't caught and aimed it at the escalator gap.

"No, no- wait!" Gwen cried but Snape zapped the bottom of the escalator with a bolt of red lightning.

There were several cries out as the escalator jolted to a stop. A few people above wobbled in their stance and Ethan, who had already made it to the top with Benji, was staring down with furrowed eyebrows and dropped jaws. Guards from the customs were started to flock towards the situation around Gwen, who stood dumbfounded.

She clapped a hand over her mouth in shock as Snape zapped the escalator again. But this time, it began to smoke and melt away at the bottom, allowing him to free his cloak from a newly created hole.

"Oh no- Snape-" she breathed.

"Excuse me sir, I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the weapon please," one of the guards said as Snape collected his cloak and stepped off the escalator. He cocked an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?"

The guard gestured to the wand in Snape's hand. "I'm going to have to ask you to hand that over-"

"And why is that?"

"Sir, you just created a massive hazard with that!" another guard gestured to the gaping hole in the bottom of the escalator, indeed revealing rather dangerous-looking cogs and screws. "And until you tell us just exactly what it is-"

"It's none of your business-"

"Sir, it's our job to know what it is-"

The three guards began to corner in on him and Gwen watched as he began to shrink and become rigid. She was watching him closing off.

"Sir, we need you to cooperate-"

"Stay away from me! This is my business and my business alone!"

"Sir, we just watched you damage IMF property-"

"And are you that blind that you didn't see that I was in a position where that was my only option?" Snape spat. "Or were you too busy shoving metal squares in people's faces?"

"Snape," Gwen said quietly. "How- how about I-"

"It is our job, sir. Now hand it over-"

"I don't even want to be here- I don't have to stay here and take this-"

He shoved one guard aside with his shoulder but another grabbed his arm and he looked down at him with a venomous glare. He spoke through clenched teeth.

"Let...go,"

"I'm sorry but Mr Hunt said you are not to leave until you have spoken with-"

"I said," Snape hissed, drawing up to full height, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Let...go."

One of the other guards started to intervene but Snape's other hand sprung up, pointing his wand at her face. She gasped and took a step back. The third guard looked too frightened to move. Snape continued to stare down the guard who had grabbed him and Gwen saw him slowly began to shrink. She watched the guard gulp and take his grip off of Snape's arm. She took this as an opportunity.

"Um- um, why- why don't I take it?"

All four of them stared at her. Snape was once again shaking his head slightly but once again, Gwen ignored him. She pointed at Snape's wand and said again-

"I'll take it. I know what it is and I can look after-"

"No," Snape interrupted. "No, you can't."

"Alright," the female guard said softly. "If you know what it is then why don't you tell us?"

Gwen felt like she was walking through a minefield of backfiring answers. Snape's eyes were boring into hers with a toxic glare that sent a cold chill down her spine. She looked at her feet and felt very vulnerable.

"Well, I can tell you that, um, I can't use it. So if I have it, it won't be dangerous," she said.

There was a short pause. She clutched her baseball bat with both hands and couldn't bear to look up. Then, with a sigh of relief, she heard the guard who had grabbed Snape say-

"Alright. Sir? If you would please hand that-"

"Yes, I know," Snape snarled.

Gwen looked up and saw him approach her, his face obviously forcing itself to cease glaring and remain calm. He hesitated but after a few seconds, he held out his wand and Gwen took it with a free hand.

Then, he gave her subtle frown that she clearly deciphered as meaning- 'If anything happens to it, I will curse you into a million pieces.'

While the guards and maintenance crew began to inspect the melted hole at the bottom of the escalator, Gwen tucked Snape's wand into a careful spot of her backpack where she was certain it wouldn't break.

She also managed to find enough place for her baseball bat to rest so that she wouldn't have to carry it.

She did this all with Snape standing over her, watching intently down his long nose. She zipped up the pack with her bat's end protruding from the side, tightened the rain jacket around her waste, and swung it on again.

"There," she breathed. "No problem."

Snape's face was a stone statue. "You best hope not."

Once the maintenance crew had blocked off the hazardous hole, Gwen and Snape were able to pass by it and walk up the escalator.

Everyone who had been riding the escalator remained on it, their eyes still glued on Snape with an odd mix of fear and wonder. They parted for him and as Gwen brought up the rear, she gave awkward smiles to them as they passed.

At the top, Snape immediately turned to Ethan and said- "So where is the morgue?"

It seemed to take Ethan a second to process the words as he himself was staring open-mouthed at Snape but he shook himself and said- "Um- follow me,"

He looked at Gwen with raised eyebrows and she shrugged bashfully. He then elbowed Benji, who was also gaping at Snape, before turning and walking down the long hallway to one of the elevators.

Ethan clicked a down arrow key on the wall and the four stepped into the elevator. Snape examined it up and down curiously but didn't say anything. Nobody said anything. It was silent and awkward and Gwen hated it.

After riding down in the elevator for two floors, the doors slid open again and revealed a long grey corridor ahead of them with white lights, bluish walls, and many metal racks of yellow buckets and glass tubes. It was also very cold and Gwen swallowed as they stepped out of the elevator.

As they made their way down a small flight of stairs, Gwen drew a bit closer to Snape as she looked around anxiously, her shoulders hunching.

She hated the idea that she was walking where bodies were transported to be examined. It made her physically sick and just thinking about it had her clutching her stomach.

They made their way down another small staircase and then Ethan turned to face them. They were standing by a set of large, grey double doors with tall rectangular windows.

Stealing a quick glance through the window, Ethan held up his index finger and opened one of the doors, poking his head inside.

"Hey, Abs? How busy are you?"

From inside the morgue, Gwen heard a female but significantly deeper voice reply- "Not busy. Why?"

"I got someone here I want you to meet,"

There was a small pause and then Ethan grinned and held the door open for a young woman with sky blue skin to hurry out into the hall and face them.

She was around her late twenties, or perhaps early thirties. She was wearing a white lab coat, a lavender dress with a turtleneck, glittering black leggings, and white sneakers with furry white leg-warmers.

Her long white hair, which was streaked with pink and purple, was pulled into a tight ponytail behind a matching headband.

Finally, the young woman had sparkling purple eyes were wide behind a pair of large, round, rimless glasses. She clapped her hands together and grinned two fangs from her bottom teeth.

"You're the All-Knower!" she gasped.

Gwen felt her jaw hit the floor. She pointed a shaky finger and her own mouth twisted into a beaming grin.

"You're Abbey Bominable!" she cried. Abbey clapped her hands together and giggled, bouncing.

"Oh that's spooky, I like that!" she said.

Gwen laughed and started bouncing too. She raced forwards, unable to contain her sudden twelve-year-old-self excitement.

"Oh my gosh- I can't believe it! It's really you! And- And you're old!" She paused. "Oh geez, I'm sorry, I didn't mean- it's just- You're still a teenager back in my world."

"Abbey's been with us for...what? Seven years? She's our head M.E here at the New York headquarters. Youngest one ever," Ethan praised, slapping her on the shoulder.

"Oh shut up, you know I hate it when you say that," Abbey rolled her eyes. "You act like it's a big deal."

"Hey..." Gwen said, still beaming. "You're English is pretty good!"

"I've been here in America for a long time," Abbey sighed. "It's nice. I like it. Good food."

She extended a hand and with a trembling one, Gwen took it, her heart jumping excitedly. Her hand was indeed, extremely cold- colder than the already chill air in the morgue hallway- but Gwen was in too much awe to say anything.

"I'm Gwen,"

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Gwen The All-Knower. Ethan spoke very highly of you."

"R-really?" Gwen whispered, her cheeks tinging pink.

"Really. I'm looking forward to working with you," Abbey said. "And who is...your...friend?" Her eyes has fallen on Snape, who had been watching like a statue.

"Oh!" Gwen drew her hand away and looked from Snape to Abbey, hardly able to believe that two of her favourite childhood characters were barely a few feet apart. "Abbey, this is Professor Snape!"

Abbey raised her own eyebrows and smiled. She took a step towards him, extending a hand. "Dr Abbey Bominable. And you're a professor? Of what?"

Snape looked down at Abbey's outstretched hand and then back up at her.

"None of your business. And we're-" He cocked his head in Gwen's directions. "-not friends."

There was a pause. Gwen winced and Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. Benji had become very interested in a vent near the ceiling.

Abbey's smile vanished and she stood there with creased eyebrows and a mouth open in slight shock. Snape was still emotionless.

"I see," Her arm dropped. "And why is it none of my business?"

"If you're smart enough to be the youngest head medical examiner in the IMF, you should be quite capable enough to answer that one particular question on social manners,"

Folding her arms, Abbey's eyes narrowed. "Did you happen to swallow a Thesaurus before you came or do you always talk like that? Or is that none of my business?"

Gwen gasped and saw a glare start to dawn on Snape's face.

"Perhaps it just seems that way because you've never opened a Thesaurus before," he sneered.

"I have," Abbey said. "It was boring and felt like it was written by someone who pretends to be smarter than everyone else. So I think my comparison stands."

"You don't have to pretend to have experience when everyone around has none," Snape hissed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, would you like a medal?" Abbey snapped.

"Okay-" Ethan cut between them. "I think that's enough. Abbey, listen, Professor Snape is here on request of Gwen."

Abbey turned her eyes on Gwen and pointed at Snape with a lazy hand, her arms still folded. "Who the hell is this?"

Gwen flinched at the sudden curse word, having to process for a moment that it was spoken by a doll character that would be given to ten-year-old girls. Once she moved past that, she said- "Um, he's here to work the Hannibal case with us. He's has information we can use."

Abbey nodded and curled her lip, looking Snape up-and-down. "You know. If you had any amount of pink on you, you'd look like a vampire."

"I hate pink," Snape said. "It's a disgusting colour."

Swinging her ponytail onto her shoulder, Abbey began to lazily play with one of the pink streaks in her hair. "Really? It's disgusting? You wanna tell me anything else you hate? I bet it's one boring hell of a list."

"Yes, and there's just been a new addition," Snape snarled.

"Okay, okay," Ethan repeated, exasperated. "That's enough. Abbey. I need you to know that he's going to be working with us for a while so I need you to remain professional."

Abbey unfolded her arms and sighed, still glaring at Snape. "Remaining professional won't be a problem. For me."

"Bominable,"

"Yes, fine," Abbey now took interest in her furry boots. Ethan turned his attention to Snape and sighed-

"You too. Alright?"

"I have been nothing but professional all morning," Snape replied, raising his chin. "It's simply that Dr Bominable and I have different ideas about what professionalism is."

"What the hell is that supposed to-"

"Bominable!"

"Sorry, sir,"

Ethan quickly took in a deep breath to calm himself. He closed his eyes and then turned to Snape again.

"You know what I mean," he said. "Why don't we meet with Hunley upstairs so he knows you're here?"

"I wasn't aware I had a choice in the matter," Snape said, giving a side-eyed glance at Gwen, who decided not to return the glance. "But very well. Dr Bominable."

He gave a curt jerk of his head and Abbey smirked as he made his way back to the elevator. Once he was out of earshot, Abbey let out a long groan.

"Geez, he reminds me of the other guy,"

Gwen stopped staring at her shoes and looked up. "What other guy?"

"Oh, Hunley brought in this other consultant this morning and he was almost exactly like that. He's British too, so is that just a British thing or-"

"Hey!" Benji finally joined in the conversation.

"Well, you're odd anyway, Benji, I just wondered if it was like that everywhere," Abbey said innocently. Benji folded his arms and returned his gaze to the ceiling vent.

Ethan glanced around at Snape, who was examining the closed elevator. Gwen wasn't sure why he wouldn't just Apparate out of the building. If he wanted to leave to badly, why didn't he?

Turning back, Ethan said- "Alright, we'll go upstairs and check it out. Oh, and Abbey, they got a body coming in soon. They found it at the Party City where the monsters attacked,"

"Ahem,"

"Sorry, um- horror villains?" Ethan asked. "Is that better?"

Abbey smiled and nodded. "Thank you for the head's up, I'll get ready." she said to Ethan. "Gwen, it was a pleasure to meet you,"

"Y-yeah, and you!"

She disappeared back into the morgue and Gwen mouthed the word- "Wow" at Ethan and grinned. The two made their way back to the elevator where Snape was patiently waiting, bent over and examining the lift buttons on the wall. Gwen wasn't quite sure why he wouldn't just Apparate out of the IMF if he was so against working with them.

"It only goes up and down," he said, straightening up.

Ethan blinked. "Yes, and?"

Snape clicked the up button and did not reply. The three shuffled awkwardly into the elevator again.

When they arrived at the main office floor with its long windowed walls and grey cubicles, Ethan pushed out of the elevator and stormed directly down the center aisle towards the back office, muttering- "Hunley brought in another consultant- what the hell- who the hell did he-"

Gwen jogged behind him, trying to take in the office floor again, and Snape strode behind her. They made their way to the back when the door to the large office swung open before Ethan could have a chance to knock.

Gwen heard herself audibly gasp and she clapped her hands to her mouth.

Standing in the now open doorway was a tall, thin man with pronounced cheekbones and sparkling green eyes. His hair was black and curly and he wore a long black coat with a high collar and a blue scarf.

"Yes, can I help you?" he asked blandly. His voice sounded only a few tones higher than Snape's and he had the same accent.

"I was just told that Hunley hired a new consultant on the Lecter case without telling me first," Ethan said. "So I guess it's you."

"You guess?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gwen could feel her heart in her throat and she almost stumbled backwards. Her hands were physically shaking.

"Ah, Hunt, you're here," Agent Hunley was the next person to step out of the back room and today he was wearing a silver suit but was significantly lacking a tie. "I see you've met Mr Sherlock Holmes."

"Abbey says you hired him yesterday. Why didn't you tell me?" Ethan demanded.

"Because he didn't want to," Sherlock said and Hunley shushed him.

"Hunt, I was going to tell you but-" Hunley's gaze slowly moved past Ethan's head as his eyes fell on Snape, who had been observing in spooky silence. "But obviously you've got your own little business you haven't told me about. Who the hell is this?"

"Oh, Gwen should, um, probably tell you because I don't-"

"You don't know?" Hunley asked, folding his arms. "You brought a strange man that you don't know into IMF headquarters?"

Gwen removed her hands from her face, gulped, and stepped forward, trying not to gawk at Sherlock who was watching Snape with a calculating expression, and Snape was doing the same in return.

"With all due respect, Mr Hunley, this is- um-" She nudged Snape and he glanced down at her. She then grasped his arm and pulled him forwards a bit. "This is Professor Snape. He's a Character who I think will be super helpful in the Hannibal case."

Snape instantly yanked his arm away from her grasp and scowled down at her. She pretended not to notice.

"He's intelligent and observant and- and a lot like Sherlock here...actually."

She caught her eyes drifting up to look at Sherlock's and realized that his irises were almost colourless in the way that they were blue one second and bronze the next. Her pulse heightened when her mind processed that Sherlock had been staring at her as well. She instantly blushed and looked back at Hunley.

"Hunt, are you trying to tell me that you let this girl bring a complete stranger into the IMF?" Hunley cried. "Did you think about this at all? How can we trust him?"

"She trusts him," Sherlock said and they all turned to look at him. "She's the All-Knower, she's clearly very familiar with this man and has probably known him as fictional for several years. Most likely since she was a child so she believes that since she trusts him, that should be enough, and that logic is understandable."

A balloon inflated in Gwen's chest and she gave a small laugh and smiled. "Yeah, that's right,"

"Of course it's right," Sherlock sighed.

"And how long have you two known each other in person?" Hunley asked. Snape seemed to decide that he wanted to have an input now.

"We're hardly acquainted and we are not friends. We met for approximately one hour about two days ago after she insisted on speaking with me," he said. "Most likely due to the fact that she is...an All-Knower and feels..." His eyes narrowed at her. "...entitled to a sort of...relationship with me."

The balloon broke. "That's not true," Gwen gasped. She looked at Ethan. "That's not true. I just wanted to meet him, that's all-"

"Yes, and stalking me home was your best option, was it?" Snape snapped. "We had already met that day, you had no need to-"

"Look, the point is I know him," Gwen said quickly as Hunley's eyebrows started rising. "I know everything about him-" Snape scoffed and she chose to ignore him. "- and I trust him. So if I'm the All-Knower, shouldn't that mean you should trust him too?"

"Do you trust him?" Hunley asked Ethan.

"Well...no," Ethan admitted. "No offence."

"None taken. I don't trust anybody," Snape said calmly.

"Well, you can't argue with that," Sherlock said. "Most people are too stupid to trust."

Snape cocked an eyebrow. "Agreed,"

Gwen bit her bottom lip and clenched her fists, smiling. "Snape and Sherlock are agreeing on something- they're actually agreeing on something! I thought you guys would hate each other! This is a terrific turn of events! I mean, I thought-"

"Shut up," Snape said, not looking at her.

"Yup, okay," Gwen hung her head.

"Back to my point," Hunley sighed. He looked down at Gwen and gestured to Snape. "You cannot bring in complete strangers and expect us to work with them, simply because you trust them!"

"But wouldn't that make sense?" Gwen asked, raising her head. "If I said that Snape is the smartest guy I know- well, besides Sherlock here because he's a genius too-"

"Get to the point,"

"Right, well, if I'm the All-Knower and I say Snape is brilliant and that he can help, I can't be lying! Right?"

Hunley and Ethan exchanged glances. Hunley bit his own bottom lip. "Well...no, I suppose not. But whether you trust him or not is irrelevant when it comes to the system! Mr Snake here-"

"Snape," Gwen said quickly, noticing a sneer on Snape's mouth. "It's Snape."

"Yes, him," Hunley said dismissively. "He's not in the IMF system! Do you have any idea how long it takes to properly work with the IMF! It takes years of hard training, swearing to secrecy, gruelling drills-"

"You hired Sherlock and took me in two days ago," Gwen interrupted dryly.

Hunley pointed at her, his mouth open. And he stood like that for a few moments. Sherlock raised his eyebrows at Gwen and she swallowed, trying to decipher whether his expression was shocked, impressed, or both. Finally, Hunley closed his mouth, lowered his hand, and sighed again.

"Alright, alright, you win. But I want Mr Snake-"

"Professor Snape," Gwen blurted out.

"- to do the proper paperwork, just as Holmes here has done," Hunley said. "I want as much personal information as he's willing to give."

Snape scoffed and Gwen easily deciphered that as 'little to none'. But she nodded energetically. "Yes, sir, of course, sir,"

"And I want it done in ten minutes. We're having a meeting, involving the Lecter Case and if he's going to be on it, I want him there,"

"Yup! Totally! We can do that!" Gwen said, still nodding. She looked up at Snape. "We can do that, right?"

Snape gave her a face that was subtle enough to seem indifferent, but recognizable enough for Gwen to see it was anger. His eyes darted back to Hunley.

"Yes. Of course,"

"Excellent," Hunley clapped his hands together. "Oh and Hunt, follow me in the office while I get the necessary paperwork. I've got something I need to discuss with you."

Once Ethan had followed Hunley into the barren back office, Gwen, Snape, and Sherlock stood outside the door in a sort of awkward, uncomfortable triangle.

Snape and Sherlock faced each other, standing like statues, obviously sizing each other up and deducing as much about the other as possible.

And Gwen stood behind them, teetering on her toes, hands behind her back. She hated the silence but she didn't want to disturb either of them and risk getting snapped at. However, to avoid getting snapped at by Severus Snape or Sherlock Holmes was completely impossible, so she decided to test her luck.

"So Sherlock," she spoke up and was immediately taken off guard by him turning to look at her. His face was just as unfathomable as Snape's. She cleared her throat and continued.

"Is, uh, is Watson here?"

"He's in the toilet," Sherlock replied. "But there's a good chance he was stopped into talking with someone on the way up here."

"Oh. Will he be at the meeting?"

"Yes. Why? You'd like to meet him?"

"Well, I mean, yeah, but wouldn't it be cool if Snape got to meet him too?" Gwen said with a small laugh. "I mean, come on. If we're going to be taking Hannibal down, we have to know each other. We-" She made a small fist and swung her arm, almost pitifully. "We gotta be a team!"

They blinked at her. She lowered her fist awkwardly. She would love to meet Watson. But what she was really interested in was to see what the outcome would be if Arthur Dent and Marvin met in different lives.

"I hate teamwork," Snape said.

"As do I," Sherlock said.

"But...you work with Watson,"

"Yes, because I like Watson,"

"And I don't like anyone," Snape added. His glare became more noticeable. "Or did you forget that, MacMillan, as you stalked me home?"

She groaned. "Oh my gosh, I said I was sorry!"

"And yet, here I am, standing in a Muggle operatives building about to be involved in a case that I in no way want to be involved in!" Snape's voice was rising.

"Then why don't you just leave?!" Gwen cried.

"Because he hates Lecter just as much as you do," Sherlock said. Gwen and Snape's heads spun to look at him, both with wide eyes.

"What did you just say?" Snape demanded.

"Oh please. You hide it well but not enough," Sherlock sighed.

"Stop your pathetic bragging, you're not impressive, just obnoxious," Snape snapped. "Go on. Tell me what I'm not hiding well enough."

"You have a personal connection with Lecter and you want him behind bars as much as Ms MacMillan here does. And what's funny is that you're both angry at him,"

"Angry?" Gwen asked, her eyebrows travelling further up her forehead. "I want him gone because- because he's scary! He's a- a- Well, you know what he is!" She hugged her stomach.

"Yes, but you're still angry at him. You're angry at him for causing you to be as afraid of him as you are, even if he hasn't done anything direct to you," Sherlock said.

"Bullshit," Gwen spat. "He sent Jason and Samara after me. He wants me and- and I don't know why. So I'd say you're wrong in that area and- oh my gosh," She looked at her shoes with wide eyes. "I'm arguing with Sherlock Holmes. Holy crap- you ARE obnoxious!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and Gwen shook her hands.

"Right, right, sorry, okay, yes, I'm mad at him but what about Snape?" It was Snape's turn to glare at her and she sighed. "Sorry, what about Professor Snape?"

"Yes," Snape growled at Sherlock. "What about Professor Snape?"

"Well, I'm having a hard time figuring out why you feel angry with him. You are, after all, superb at concealing your emotions. Most of the time, until you get unnecessarily angry with those who remind you-"

"Skip to the point!"

"Well, you're angry at Lecter but it's deep-cut. Because you have a very personal relationship with him,"

Snape flushed a very ugly, beet colour and Gwen's jaw dropped at him.

"Woah, woah, woah. Very personal? Relationship? With- with Hannibal Lecter? Severus Snape had a personal relationship with Hannibal Lecter-" Gwen hissed.

"You have no evidence," Snape said through his teeth.

"Actually I do. It's the fact that you aren't leaving,"

Snape's glare intensified and his fists clenched. "Well. Aren't you clever,"

"So are you, I can tell," Sherlock said, nodding his head. "But not as clever as me."

"I- I think you're both clever!" Gwen said, noticing the vein in Snape's head returning. "I mean, I both admire you for that even if-"

"I know exactly why you're staying," Snape spat. "You're staying because you were offered a job in the biggest manhunt in years. You were offered a nice paycheque and a chance to prove how brilliant you are by catching the current number one criminal alive, just so you could stroke that swollen ego of yours. You didn't do it because it's right, you did it because it makes you look good. I knew someone exactly like you. The only difference is that you've actually got a shred of brain in that oversized head of yours."

"Did you just compare Sherlock Holmes to James Potter?" Gwen breathed, horrified. "Prof- Prof, that's not okay-"

"James Potter...Would that be his childhood bully?" Sherlock asked Gwen with a furrowed brow.

That very next second, there was a horrible popping noise, followed by a crack, then by shattering. Gwen screamed and jumped backwards as the long light in the ceiling above their heads had suddenly exploded, a few bits of glass and lightbulb showered between Sherlock and Snape like razor snowflakes. Sherlock had backed against the office door, mouth open, eyes wide, looking from the light to Snape.

Gwen clapped her hands over her mouth, staring at the darkened ceiling light and now shadowy area they stood in. She looked at Snape who was still scowling but less ferociously and looked almost embarrassed.

It was extremely lucky that the office door opened at that exact moment.

"Now how did that happen?" Hunley asked, his eyes now going to the light as Sherlock backed away to let him through. "No one's hurt I hope."

"N-No, we're- we're fine," Gwen said quietly, shaking slightly.

"We'll get a maintenance crew to look at this, don't worry. Professor- um- Snape, here's the paperwork. There should be an empty cubicle two rows from the front there. Meeting's in ten minutes, I'll send Hunt to come find you. Holmes, if you could step into my office for a moment," Hunley said.

Snape examined the four double-sided papers he was handed while Hunley beckoned Sherlock into the office. Ethan frowned at the light and back to Gwen, who watched Snape turn and make his way down the cubicles.

"You wanna tell me what happened there?" Ethan gestured to the light. Gwen's eyes widened. She panicked. She shrugged.

"I mean, it happens all the time at my school. We got this one light in the science room that flashes all the time. You'd think we were getting contacted through the Upside-Down, but I'll tell you about that later,"

She said this all very quickly and the words sounded like they were trampling over each other to get out the door like a reverse Black Friday opening.

She began to sidestep by Ethan to the middle aisle. "I better...um...follow him..."

Ethan folded his arms and frowned. "Yeah. Make sure he doesn't break anymore lights,"

"Pssssh, what?" Gwen forcefully laughed. "Bro- Bro, that wasn't him, that was just-"

"You know, we do have telekinesis here in Charactia,"

"Okay, yeah, it was him but, like, don't bring it up or anything, alright?"

Ethan sighed. "Believe me, I have other things to focus on,"

Gwen nodded and smiled awkwardly. She jogged back down the aisle, peering into the cubicles as she passed until she found the empty one with Snape in it, two rows from the entrance. It was totally barren besides a desk and a rolling chair, in which Snape was seated in, pouring over the papers with a pen. Barely any of the blanks or questions were filled out.

"If you're not going to give me space, close the door,"

Gwen stepped into the cubicle and shut the hinged fuzzy grey door. The second she did, she blurted out in a whisper-

"So how do you know Hannibal?"

"That's none of your business,"

"Prof, it's why I asked you to come!" Gwen said,"You knew Jack and Jason and Krueger, it only makes sense that you- It's alright if I call you 'Prof', right?"

"No, but it's better than getting rid of my title altogether. I expected nothing less, you seem to enjoy ignoring and challenging authority," Snape said.

"Only when they treat me like crap or don't take me seriously," Gwen said. "Which doesn't happen often. Some of the kids call teachers by their first names at my high school, but, like, that's so demeaning and- Wait, your middle name is actually 'Tobias'?!"

Snape glared and covered up the papers with a hand. Gwen sighed and sat on the grey carpeted floor, hugging her knees and staring up at Snape. He was biting his lip with creased eyebrows. She smiled to herself. He looked like a student who had just gotten a test he hadn't studied for.

"But back to what I was saying, I brought you here because I suspected you might know Hannibal but Sherlock Holmes says you had a personal connection with him!" she whispered.

"Well, bugger all what Holmes says," Snape grumbled. "Who says he's right?"

"Well, I mean, almost everyone. He's brilliant. He's a lot like you which is probably why you guys don't get along. I figured as much-"

"He is nothing like me,"

"Sure, okay, but he's smart. So how...personal is this connection with him? Did he take you out to dinner before you got an apartment?" She gasped. "Did you two work together? Did you not know he was a serial killer? He took you out to dinner, didn't he- oh gosh, Snape, he didn't cook, did he?"

"I've been in my flat for two weeks, MacMillan. I was in the laboratory for fourth months. There was no time in between for us to meet," Snape muttered. "Now would you stop? I'm trying to figure out how much to write here."

Gwen frowned. "So...there was no time between you in the apartment or in the lab? None? That doesn't make any sense. Like, you just showed up in the apartment the second after you escape the lab? Did you Apparate?"

"MacMillan, be quiet or I'll ask you to leave," Snape hissed.

"No, no, I have to know this!"

"No, you don't!"

"Yes, I do! That's why I brought you here!" Gwen repeated. "So you must've had time to meet Hannibal before you got in the lab- but no wait- you woke up in the lab...But then that would mean-"

She froze. Her heart jumped into her throat and her jaw dropped. Her hands raised off her knees and clutched her hair. The scribbling on the paper had noticeably stopped.

"Holy crap," she breathed. "Hannibal was in the lab with you." She looked up. "He was in the lab with you. Y-You were there together-"

Snape was back to writing. He was deathly quiet but his shoulders were tense. Gwen grasped her backpack straps.

"So, did he...was he one of the doctors there? But no wait...Ethan said they were tracking him for two years so they wouldn't have hired him... And then apparently he and the others disappeared for about four months..."

It was an incredible but disturbing feeling when the pieces all fell into place. Her jaw somehow dropped even further.

"Holy shit- Holy shit! He was a subject like you!"

"Congratulations, MacMillan!" Snape snapped down at her and she shrunk. "Do you feel vindicated? Do you want a reward? Do you feel like a genius now that you've figured it out?"

"Yeah, you know, I actually do!" Gwen retorted. "I didn't think I'd actually be good at this mystery stuff but I guess I'm okay. So you two were subjects together. You were..."

"Tortured?" Snape said.

Gwen swallowed. "Yeah, but...I mean...he deserved it,"

"Like I did,"

"No, no, not like you!" Gwen said. "You're nothing like him!" She paused. "What...did they do to him?"

Snape slammed the pen down on the desk and his glare intensified. "Are you blind, or do you see that I have paperwork here?"

She somehow shrunk even smaller as he turned in his chair and continued at his work.

"Get out." he whispered.

"But I just want to-"

"Get. Out."

She gulped and slowly stood, her eyes lingering on his hunched over shape as she exited the cubicle, carefully closing the door behind him. She blinked back sudden tears that she couldn't explain and sunk to the floor, her back against the cubicle wall opposite to Snape's.

She just wanted to help him. She knew he had trouble letting people in but all she wanted was to help. Some unwanted interaction was good for him, wasn't it?

"Hey,"

Gwen quickly wiped her eyes and looked up. Ethan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking around almost anxiously.

"Can we talk?"

"Am- am I in trouble?"

"Oh no, you're fine. I just wanted to talk with you,"

She smiled and patted the floor next to her. He slid down besides her, hugging his knees.

"What's up?"

After a long deep breath, he said- "I just got a promotion...I think,"

"That's great! What kind of promotion?"

"Hunley's leaving New York tomorrow and because the Lecter Case is the biggest one over here. And since it's the case I'm the most involved with...he's leaving me in charge of the headquarters here,"

"Holy crap," Gwen breathed, smiling. "That's terrific!"

"I'm a little nervous, I mean, it's a huge job and-"

"Dude," she laughed. "You're Ethan Hunt. You scaled one of the tallest buildings in the world on your HANDS. You can handle office-work."

Ethan chuckled and leaned his head back against the cubicle wall. "You're awfully positive. First you bring your friend in and then..."

"Snape's a good person, really. He's just-"

"He's rough around the edges. Yeah, you keep saying that. I just wish you'd actually trust me enough to tell me who he is,"

Gwen squinted at him, still smiling. "Oh come on. You know you can't trust people in the IMF,"

"Technically, you're not IN the IMF. You're just working with us,"

"Good," Gwen sighed. "Because there's no way in hell I'm jumping onto a moving plane."

"Stop bringing that up!" Ethan hissed playfully, hitting her arm.

The door in front of them opened and Snape stepped out of his cubicle, the registration papers in hand. He stared down at the two of them with a raised. Ethan waved awkwardly.

"Do you two always wait impatiently for people to finish doing important and private work?" he said dryly.

They got to their feet.

"Well, actually, I just got put in charge so I figured you might as well give the papers directly to me," Ethan explained and extended a hand but Snape drew the papers close to his chest and squinted.

"Don't take me for a fool, Hunt, I overheard you and MacMillan's little conversation. You're not in charge until tomorrow. Therefore, I have no reason to trust these papers to you,"

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. Just make sure they get on Hunley's desk, okay?"

Snape's eyes shifted between Ethan and Gwen and then he wordlessly turned and made his way back down the aisle to where the office was. Giving Ethan another awkward grin, she followed after him.

Ethan, however, passed Gwen and jogged besides Snape.

"I want to run something by you, Professor. If you have information, any information at all, you are to bring it forward. Got that?"

"Of course," Snape murmured, not looking at him.

"If we ask you a question, you answer it,"

"Seems rather controlling,"

"They're just doing it to catch the bad guys, Snape," Gwen spoke up from behind. "They're actually the good guys."

"Yeah. We're the good guys," Ethan laughed quietly.

Snape met his eyes with an intense glare. "Everyone believes themselves to be "the good guys", Hunt. That's why the world's as twisted as it is."

He strode away, knocking on the office door, and Gwen and Ethan stood back.

"Ray of sunshine, isn't he," Ethan whispered.

Gwen nodded and bit her tongue to prevent her from defending him. She wasn't sure she'd be the positive person in the world if she'd had the life Snape had.

The office door opened and Sherlock appeared, stepping backwards when he had become a foot away from Snape's face. His eyebrows raised.

"Can I help you?"

"No," Snape said. "You're not in charge. Which must be a sad fact for you to process. Now I'd like to enter the office but your head appears to be blocking the way."

Gwen's eyes widened and she covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. The two men scowled at each other, standing as still as statues for a moment. When Sherlock finally stepped out of the doorway to let Snape through, they kept their eyes locked onto one another until the door shut.

"He's rather...intense," Sherlock observed.

"You have no idea," Gwen sighed.

"Is there a reason he's your favourite?"

Gwen's heart dropped into her stomach and stared up at Sherlock with eyes the size of small moons. Her head went cold.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Yeah, what?" Ethan asked, folding his arms. "Her favourite what?"

"Character," Sherlock said. "Mr Hunley was just explaining to be the logistics of how we are merely fictional in the All-Knower world. I deduced, by the way she becomes very still and attentive when Professor Snape speaks, and by the look on her face whenever he is not looking at her, that she admires him quite immensely."

"I...I have a look?" Gwen whispered, unsure of whether to be in awe or horrified.

"Yes, your lips part slightly and you smile in your eyes ever so slightly. You also go pink when speaks,"

"I- I didn't notice that,"

"That's because you don't blush hard enough. It's just subtle enough for me to catch but for you to miss."

Gwen actually did feel herself blush now. "Well- Well-" She was searching for words and when she found them, she smiled and pointed. "What if- what if I told you that you were ALSO one of my favourites? Huh?"

Ethan laughed. "Oh, even I figured that one out,"

Lowering her finger, Gwen muttered- "Dammit,"

"Now if you two would excuse me," Sherlock said, clearing his throat. "Hunley has asked me to question the hostages from the Party City that have been brought in, and then examine the body of the man we found near the sewer. If either of you see- Ah! Here he is!"

Gwen and Ethan both turned their heads as a shorter man with a round face, sticky-out ears, mousey hair, and a black windbreaker came quickly down the cubicle aisle. Gwen gasped and Ethan extended a hand.

"You must be Dr Watson!"

"Uh, yes, you must be Mr Hunt!"

They shook hands and Gwen grinned, making a small squealing noise through her teeth. She quickly extended her own hand.

"Dr Watson- My name is Gwen MacMillan,"

Watson turned to look at her and he smiled, taking her hand. "Well, it's a pleasure to me you too. You must be the, um, All-Knower, is that correct?"

"Yes," she laughed. "That is correct."

"Ms MacMillan is a big fan of ours," Sherlock said calmly.

"Oh, really?" Watson chuckled.

"Yeah. I haven't read the books yet but I've watched the whole TV series. I had to spread all of the episodes out because they're all an hour long and each season is only, like, five episodes or something," Gwen rambled. "But I've watched the episode of you and Mary's wedding, like, five times because it's so cute and done so well- and- And I'm still shaking your hand. Wow- I'm sorry- I'm like Ant-Man-"

"It's alright," Watson sighed, thought he looked slightly uncomfortable. "We've met weirder."

"Speaking of weird," Ethan mumbled.

The office door opened and Snape stepped out, this time without the papers and a slight glare on his face. He looked as though he was just finished a debate that involved no screaming but very heavily-implying insults. And Gwen wasn't surprised, seeing as he had been alone with Hunley.

"Professor Snape," Sherlock said. "This is my accomplice, Dr Watson."

Watson looked Snape up and down and took in a deep breath, shrugging, and then taking a step forward. He extended his own hand.

"Pleasure to meet you,"

Snape merely glanced down at his hand and then back up. He cocked an eyebrow. "Do I...know you?"

Gwen gave a small gasp and covered her mouth again. Watson blinked several times and dropped his own hand awkwardly. Then, he pursed his lips and squinted.

"No, no, I...think I would've remembered...Well, now that you mention it...your voice does sound familiar,"

Gwen wanted to melt into the floor with happiness. She didn't know if this was noticeable or not.

"Well, John, we're needed downstairs," Sherlock said.

"Alright, alright," Watson drew his bright blue eyes from Snape's inky black ones. "Well, nice meeting you all!"

"Yes, absolutely!" Gwen blurted when she finally managed to breathe again but by then, Sherlock and Watson were making their way back down the cubicle aisle.

"What was that reaction about?" Ethan whispered to her.

"Inside joke," Gwen lied quickly. "So, Prof, how was Hunley?"

"He's given me a cubicle,"

"Is that it?" Ethan asked.

"No. That's all I'll be telling you,"

As Gwen and Ethan exchanged glances, Hunley exited the office waved a hand for them to follow him. "Come on, briefing room. All three of you."

Ethan followed immediately after but Gwen looked at Snape. He gave a side-eyed stare and his lips thinned.

"And here enters the All-Knower," he hissed and began to walk after Ethan and Hunley. "and the rude satisfaction upon her face."

"There is no such thing on my face," Gwen scoffed, moving in a quickened pace after him. "You wanna catch Hannibal and Ethan does too. You would've run into the IMF sooner or later. This way, we get to control how it happens."

It was Snape's turn to scoff. "We. There is no 'we', MacMillan."

"Alright," Gwen said. She smirked at him. "Then why are we walking side by side?"

His stare morphed into a glare and very quickly, Snape strode ahead of her so that she walked near the tail of his black cloak. She covered her mouth and tried not to laugh.


	7. Dead Memories

Hunley led them down a long hallway that was found on the far right of the office-floor. At the end of the hallway, to the left, was the briefing room, which wasn't very large and had a long glass wall separating it from the hall.

There was one long table in the center of the room facing a projector screen. On the other wall was another window that the wide landscape of Manhattan.

The chairs had already been filled up with the members of Ethan's team and other IMF officials. Ethan stood to the side of the room. Snape stood in the back.

Gwen intended to stand at the back as well but her eyes fell on the blue and red colours of Supergirl, who was seated on the other side of the table, in front of the window. Immediately, Gwen squealed and waved. Once Kara had seen her, she immediately gave Gwen her chair...which just happened to be next to a Character that Gwen had not seen in person, but easily recognized.

The Character she now sat beside was wearing a pitch black suit and tie, had a black goatee, shoulder-length black hair similar to Snape's, and several scars on his face.

"This is John Wick," Supergirl said excitedly, crouching on the floor between the two of them. "He just arrived this morning."

Gwen beamed and held out a hand. "Hi!"

John Wick looked at her and quickly shook her hand. He turned his attention back to the front without saying a word. Gwen swallowed awkwardly, shifted in her chair, and looked at Kara.

"So when did you get here?" she asked.

"Just now, actually,"

"How did- Oh, duh. Super speed,"

"Hunley," Wick spoke up and the chatter in the room seemed to die down in an instant. Gwen couldn't help but notice that many of the IMF agents were giving him dirty looks. "I'd like it if you made this quick. I have somewhere to be."

"You mean you have someone to illegally kill in your quest for vengeance," Ethan's friend Luther said from the other side of the table.

"Strictly speaking, yes," Wick responded.

"Wait...if you have somewhere to be, why'd you come?" Gwen questioned. "You're not part of the IMF."

"I'm guessing this is Ms MacMillan,"

It was an odd feeling, being unable to stop smiling, and yet Gwen was becoming very familiar with it. She nodded. "Yup!"

"Mr Wick was curious about our work with Lecter. He dropped in unannounced to see if he had an interest to help," Hunley sighed.

"That's so cool," Gwen breathed.

"Then let's get this started, shall we?" Benji asked. He was sitting next to Luther and was typing at a laptop.

Hunley nodded and started speaking. And what he said had nothing to do with Hannibal Lecter whatsoever. He started going over what many meeting speakers would call "housekeeping". Gwen felt she was sitting in on a very cool but very bizarre conversation that had just started in the middle of a sentence.

Everyone seemed to be paying unshakeable attention to what was being said and Gwen, as smart as she was, didn't know what to make of any of it. Nor did she understand the questions agents like Benji or Ethan would ask.

Her attention was saved by Supergirl, who whispered in her ear- "Who's the new guy?"

She pointed subtly to Snape, who was either paying as rapt attention as everyone else or was incredibly good at pretending to be. Gwen smiled and whispered back-

"That's Professor Snape. I brought him in to help with the case,"

"Is he smart?"

"He's brilliant,"

"He seems awfully cheerful,"

"Oh shut up," Gwen laughed and elbowed her. "He saved my life today, actually. One of the villains, her name is Samara..." She looked at her knees and her voice rasped- "She tried to kidnap me."

"Dang it," Supergirl muttered. "I knew I should've come sooner. I could've helped."

"Hey, don't worry about it. You got your own city to take care of,"

"Why would the villains want you anyway?"

"Yes, Ms MacMillan," Hunley snapped, turning away from a slide on the projector screen. "Tell us."

Gwen and Kara froze and realized that everyone in the room were staring at them. She shrunk significantly, as did Supergirl, but Ethan came to their rescue.

"I think she's referring to what happened in the Party City," he spoke up quickly. "Which I think we should be discussing _first_. We haven't updated anyone, as I told you, so I think we should bring you up to speed."

The room's gaze went from Gwen, to Ethan, and back to Hunley. There were a few heads that nodded in agreement, including Gwen's. She saw Snape out of the corner of her eye and he was not nodding, but staring at her with an expression of shrewd calculation. She wondered if she was blushing.

"Alright, fine," Hunley sighed, throwing his hands in the air. He tossed down a file folder he had been holding and folded his arms. "Ms MacMillan, fill us in."

Her throat closed. "Me?"

"Is there another MacMillan in the room?"

"Hey, now, give her a second," Supergirl said, holding up a hand. "Maybe she doesn't want to talk about it."

Gwen felt her shoulders shudder as she remembered the cool, oily feeling of Samara's hair against her neck. She nodded silently.

"Ethan...maybe you could..."

Ethan stepped forward, giving an encouraging smile, and took the time to explain everything that had happened during the hostage situation while Gwen sat, staring at her knees again, and Supergirl put an arm around her.

Once Ethan had finished speaking, Wick raised a pen he had been writing notes in.

"Alice. Would that be an allegorical codename of some kind? Seeing as this is sort of...Wonderland to her?"

Gwen had a sudden vision of two men sitting in armchairs discussing differently coloured pills. One man looked exactly like Wick, only with shorter hair and a clean face. She looked up quickly.

"Are we in the Matrix?" she suddenly blurted out.

"I'm sorry, what?" Hunley said. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I just thought- I just needed to know. See, um, John Wick here- the guy who plays him in my world also plays the guy in the movie about 'The Matrix' and- and they also talk about Wonderland so- I mean, if everything exists then-" Gwen stammered quietly.

"The Matrix is on a Future Earth," Ethan said. "So no."

"Future Earths are just other dimensions, right?" Gwen asked. "Because if they are, wouldn't this just be a massive universe with- like- a multiverse INSIDE of it?"

Ethan looked around, and people stared at her, then exchanging glances of their own. Gwen swallowed, not liking the silence. Benji cleared his throat.

"If it's easier for you to think about it that way, Gwen, then sure,"

"But is it actually like that? Or do you not know either?"

They didn't have to respond for her to know that they honestly didn't know.

"You ask a lot of questions," Wick said, glancing at her with a fathomless expression.

"Yeah I don't really...know all,"

"I can see that," Wick turned away and Gwen wasn't sure whether that was meant to be an insult or not. "So. They're calling her 'Alice'. Do you think it's a sort of nickname?"

"If it was a nickname, I think she'd know that it was a nickname. Because that's the point...of a...well, you know," Benji said.

"I'm with Benji. Samara sounded pretty confident that was her name. Which is good. If they don't know her name, they can't track her," Ethan added.

It was now when Snape brought his own voice up. "They can track her using other methods."

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Who are you?" Wick asked, pointing his pen.

"I'm someone who already decided to stay," Snape sneered. "Unlike you, apparently.

"Hey, do you know how hard it was to get here? I had to steal a helicopter, forge two IDs, and ride a horse through New Jersey to get here this morning!" Wick yelled. "And I didn't even know you had a meeting! So why don't you get off my ass or I might have to add you onto the body count I've already stacked this morning!"

"You're so cool," Gwen breathed, smiling.

"Cool? He is not cool! He's a murderer! Can I just arrest him?" Ethan asked Hunley. "He basically just confessed-"

"As I was saying," Snape snapped, shooting a venomous glare around the table. "I believe...that the General and the others have a much more... advanced way of finding those they need to use."

"They do. They have this incredible tech that can block our own tracking programs and they can just pop up places unannounced," Benji said.

"They're using the sewers," Snape said.

"How'd you figure that out?" Kara asked.

"Because..." Snape hesitated and Gwen could see him trying to decide whether he should admit to entering the Party City. After a pause, he opened his mouth, paused again, and finally spoke.

"Because I investigated on my own. I overheard that they had been keeping the...ice cream down there. And they have a legitimate Tracker,"

"They do?" Gwen asked, sitting upright. "Who?"

"I...don't know his name," Snape said. His face was one of forced calm and he was obviously trying to decide how much he should keep private and how much he should tell. "But he's a creature who prefers to stay underground and in shadow. He...takes the form of a..." He sighed and his lips thinned. "A large clown."

The room was dead quiet for a few seconds before Gwen cried out- "Pennywise?! I thought he lived in Maine!"

"He lives wherever he is told to track," Snape said. "And in this case, it's the New York City sewer system."

"Woah woah woah," Ethan held up his hands. "Who- who's Pennywise exactly?"

Words spilled out of Gwen like a river of icy, shrill, and anxious water.

"He's this evil clown- hey, don't laugh, it's serious! He's this big clown who resurfaces every...27 years, I think. He can transform into whatever you fear the most and he eats children. Wait- wait a moment!"

She pulled her backpack off and into her lap, fishing through it until her hands fell on "101 Horror Movies To See Before You Die". She flipped it open to the first page, where she found a table of contents. Her finger went down the titles.

"Dammit!" she cried. "It's not in there!"

"What's not?" Ethan leaned over the table a bit.

"This book doesn't have either of the 'It' movies down here. Those are the movies with Pennywise," she groaned.

She flipped the book shut and stared down at Jack Torrance's face on the cover, which didn't do his real likeness any form of justice. She sunk in her chair and folded her arms.

There was a flurry of activity when the people at the table had seen what the cover of the book said and suddenly, several people were grabbing for it, or leaning over to get a better look.

"Is there anything about the name 'Alice' in that book?" Ethan asked, glancing over Luther's shoulder- as he had the book and was handing it around.

"I don't know, I didn't read it," Gwen muttered.

"So if Alice isn't a nickname, then it has to be a code they've created just so they can call you something," Supergirl said.

"And it could very well be for allegorical effect, as Wick stated," Ethan added. "You know, for a monologue purpose."

Wick clicked his tongue. "Seems a bit dramatic,"

"Have you met Lecter?" Ethan laughed coldly. "I think 'dramatic' is an understatement, Baba Yaga."

Gwen snorted and covered her mouth quickly, gaining a glare from Wick. The book was continuously passed around the table, and agents flipped it open to random pages before Snape had snatched it mid-pass.

He opened the book to a page and held the book around, his face stone and fathomless, showing off a photo of Hannibal Lecter wearing his iconic bite-mask and tied up on the trolley.

"This is what we should be focusing on. He orders his Tracker to do what he wishes and with the Tracker...stalking the sewers, there is a strong chance nobody is safe from being hunted down," he drawled. "When this man demands you do something, you either do it or you die trying to resist. Which returns us to our...original predicament."

He closed the book and threw it onto the table.

"Why does he want the All-Knower?"

"Because he must've figured out what I was!" Gwen said shrilly. "He's like a criminal mastermind, remember?"

"He didn't do much when he was in the IMF," Hunley said.

"He was never IN the IMF!" Gwen said, her voice getting higher. "I told you that!"

"To be fair," Benji spoke up. "We've never seen them in the same room together." Ethan smacked him upside the head. "Ow- ow- but- but I guess she's the All-Knower..."

"We're classifying him as a disavowed agent until further proof," Hunley interrupted.

"Until further proof of what?" Snape barked. "According to the Revocation, he's not supposed to even exist! Or have you forgotten the logistics of a conversation we had barely fifteen minutes ago in your office? What does a man, who seems to be the most dangerous man on the planet, want with dessert items and an All-Knower?"

"Well, you're the one who said that when he asks someone to do something, they do it," Ethan pointed out, shifting his weight onto a foot. "So, Professor, why don't you give us a hypothesis?"

Snape's lips thinned and the room watched him silently. He looked up, his eyes darting around the ceiling, before he faced the table again.

"The man...they found... in the sewers," he said slowly. "I...overheard him discussing a plan with the Lieutenant...while he was alive."

"Was that inside the Party City?" Gwen inquired and Snape nodded.

"The man's name was Marsh. I didn't get a look at him. But my suspicion is that this man was somehow tracked by the General and roped into this new sort of...plan. I believe that...he helped them obtain the ice cream and travel through the sewers. He was given...a few hours to leave the country," he explained. "I, however, don't know when he would've spoken to the General."

"So you admit that you entered that store and went to investigate them on your own, after you lied to our officials?" Hunley snapped.

"Are you serious?!" Gwen cried, gesturing to Snape. "He just gave you valuable information that he picked up and you're scolding him?"

"Holmes is investigating the body as we speak. There's a good chance he'll give us that information when he's finished," Hunley said, scowling.

"But you don't know that!" Gwen argued. "One time, a woman showed herself to Sherlock BUCK naked and he couldn't tell ANYTHING about her! He's not like this invincible computer or something!"

"Um...mister?" Supergirl said, looking at Snape. "Do you think Marsh knew about Hannibal's real plans?"

"Real plans," Snape repeated.

"Yeah. What he's really up to. What all these weird heists mean,"

"There's a...good possibility that he did not. Lecter isn't the type of man to disclose his true intentions to anyone. Not even to his closest followers,"

"Must be lonely," Benji muttered.

"He's an egomaniac who only cares about what he gets out of other people," Gwen scoffed. "He's not lonely, he's a total psycho."

"You talk about Lecter as though you know him, Snape," Ethan disclosed. "Care to explain?"

"If you think I'm working for that, as MacMillan perfectly put it, egomaniac-"

"I'm just wondering,"

"As am I," Wick said, folding his hands.

Snape glowered around the room. "I've met Lecter twice."

"And?" Gwen said, clutching her backpack

"We didn't exactly...become...pals,"

Everyone in the room exchanged raised eyebrows and then returned their gaze to Snape.

"Do you know him well enough to make a hypothesis about where he could've recruited Marsh or how?" Supergirl questioned. The people around the table nodded.

Gwen saw Snape gulp as he was battling again with how much he should say. He raised his chin and said-

"Yes, but Marsh is dead now,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ethan said, wrinkling his nose. Snape swallowed again but kept his face fathomless. However, he was fiddling with his fingers.

"If Marsh were alive and in custody...I would be able to enter his mind and interpret his memories,"

There was a pause around the room. No one took their eyes off of Snape. A few peoples' mouths dropped open. Luther blinked, shook his head and said-

"Hold on a second. Are you saying that you can...read minds?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "A simplistic and moronic way of putting it but...yes. I can...read minds,"

He looked ready to gag at the term used. Gwen knew Snape was the sort of guy who liked to over-explain everything, especially to those he deemed less intelligent. She guessed it was an insecurity thing. Legilimency was far more complicated than just reading minds but Gwen knew to explain it would be to explain magic, and he wouldn't risk that. Magic was something nobody really understood and even she didn't know the limitations...

Which suddenly gave her an idea.

"Snape, I have a question!" she blurted. "If- if you can use this weird inner-space dimensional thing to mind read-" (That was the easiest way to explain magic without revealing what it was) "- do you think the space used to mind read still exists a bit in Marsh's head? Like, do you think- even though he's dead- there's flickers of images inside his brain?"

Snape's eyes widened slightly. "Perhaps...but...I think it would need to be quick and the body would need to be in one piece,"

Gwen jumped to her feet. "Well then we should get down there before Abbey and Sherlock do- you know- stuff to it!"

"We're in the middle of a briefing-" Hunley interrupted but Gwen was already throwing her backpack on.

"But if Snape thinks there's a possibility that he could see any remaining memories, we need to do it now!"

"You heard what he said!" Hunley snapped. "He said 'perhaps'! It's all hypothetical!"

"Which is why we need to try it! Right? Right?!"

She spun at Snape, whose eyes darted around the room. He flexed his fingers again and then, without a word, he nodded, pushed by Ethan and swept from the briefing room. Gwen clapped her hands together and grabbed "101 Horror Movies To See Before You Die".

"We'll be right back!" she called, dashing around the table and waving the book. She ran from the room but poked her head back in and said- "Nice to meet you, Mr Wick! Have fun on your next revenge trip!" and then promptly vanished again.

The room was dead quiet. Supergirl bit her bottom lip and then stood up from kneeling. "I'm going with her," and she too exited the briefing room.

Ethan's hands clenched and unclenched into fists. He gritted his teeth and Hunley put his hands on his hips, eyebrows raised.

"Sorry, sir," Ethan mumbled, and then he ran out too.

Everyone sat uncomfortably and awkwardly. It seemed as though no one really wanted to speak up first. Wick cleared his throat and fiddled with his pen.

"Does that happen everyday?"

"Shut up," Hunley grumbled and faced the projector screen. "We have more work to discuss."

Gwen, Snape, Ethan, and Supergirl had made it down the morgue level in record time. They bolted down the long corridor towards Abbey's morgue and quickly saw that Sherlock, Watson, and Abbey were in there together deep in conversation.

The morgue wasn't very large and there was only one table in the middle, where the body was lying. One the left were glass shelves of equipment and chemicals while a freezer and tray-trolley (as well as two small extra tables) were on the right. The body, still intact, was lying on the table under a white blanket.

Gwen stayed outside the doors but managed a way to crouch under the window so that she could see the others without having to see the body on the table. Ethan kept the door open a crack so she could listen...but only after Snape, Ethan, and Supergirl had barged in.

"Hey, what the hell-" Abbey cried, standing on one side of the body. "Hunt, we're kind of in the middle of something-"

"What have you figured out so far?" Ethan demanded.

Abbey gestured to Sherlock, who rolled his eyes and said-

"We don't have a name but we've come to the conclusion that he was shot, and then slashed across the chest by a set of long blades. However, he was already almost dead from the gunshot so the blades were mostly likely just a form of art to mark the body. He's Bajoran but due to the lack of Bajoran regalia he was wearing, and the lack of a piercing in one ear, he's most likely been on Earth for a while. Hiding."

"Well that's great because we have even more information," Ethan said. "According to Snape, the guy's name is Marsh and he was-"

"Working with Hannibal. Yes, that I figured out due to him being found in the sewers. And he was shot in the front, meaning he was betrayed. Not trying to run," Sherlock finished. "But Marsh...that's interesting."

"That's not a Bajoran name," Watson noted.

"No, it isn't. Which connects to our previous conclusion-"

"Oh, would you just shut up!" Snape snarled and shoved him aside.

He grasped the sheet and pulled it back away from the body's head where he was met with the face of a man, probably in his thirties, with a ridged nose and mousey brown hair like Watson's.

Snape froze, staring down at the body. His eyes had widened and suddenly, his legs felt numb.

"Well, can you read him?" Ethan asked.

"Can he what?" Abbey cried. "Hunt, you can't just barge in here while I am trying to-"

"This'll all make sense in a moment, Abs, I swear," Ethan promised. "Snape, can you read him?"

Snape still hadn't moved. His breathing was coming short. Gwen watched him through the window and her own breath stopped. His face had gone distant and deep down, Gwen knew he was seeing someone else on that table.

"Professor, are you alright?" Supergirl whispered kindly.

"I'm fine," Snape choked out. He shook himself and stood upright, taking in a deep, shuddering breath. He looked a bit paler. "Dr Bominable, have you swabbed his face yet for any fingerprints or...however you...do this."

"Yeah, I did it before-"

"Good. I need to use my bare hands,"

"I'm sorry, what's about to happen?" Watson asked but Snape, with trembling hands, put one hand on the body's forehead and one hand on its covered chest.

He closed his eyes and his head angled to the floor. Everyone held their breath, watching intently, none of them sure what they were waiting for. Snape's eyes moved around under his eyelids, and his eyebrows furrowed but either than that, he didn't move. His breathing was barely audible. The whole room held still.

Which was why Gwen, and Abbey, screamed when Snape's head suddenly snapped upwards, facing the ceiling. He began to shake slightly.

"I- I can see something," he stammered. "I- I see something-"

"Holy shit," Gwen whispered, her forehead against the glass.

"Well what is it?" Ethan cried, bending closed. "What is it?!"

"Hold on, give him space-" Abbey held her arms out over the body. "I had a friend who was psychic-"

"I need to focus!" Snape snapped, his eyes squeezing more shut. "Be quiet!"

His breathing seemed laboured and heavy but he still remained frozen to the spot.

"I- I can see...a table. And- and I can see a- a drink of some kind- I can't tell what kind, it's too fuzzy- things are moving and focusing in and out-"

"Just focus on what you find easy!" Gwen called into the morgue. "Don't force it too hard!"

"SHUT UP!" Snape suddenly yelled. He almost teetered backwards but he scowled and he righted himself. It was like sheer willpower was the only thing keeping him standing.

"There's...there's some sort of wooden booth chair...and- and old photographs on the walls...and I can see cutlery..."

"That sounds like some sort of restaurant," Sherlock whispered.

"And- there's a person- I can see a person- damn, I'm losing it- I'm losing it-" Snape growled. "I can see...blue- It's Lecter- I know it's him but I can't- I can't get a clear image-"

And then, his jaw dropped and his eyes popped open . Except instead of his normal black pupils, his eyes were totally white. Abbey shrieked and Gwen crouched to hide from shock, but slowly, looked back up.

"What is it?!" Ethan cried, shaking slightly. "Hey! HEY!"

"Someone pull him out, he can't answer-" Abbey breathed.

"No, he could still find something!" Sherlock snapped. "You might ruin whatever the hell this is if-"

Snape's nose started to bleed and his whole body had gone rigid. His chest was heaving and he was still staring at the ceiling.

"He can't answer, Sherlock!" Watson shouted.

"What if Sherlock's right-" Ethan started but Supergirl cut him off.

"He's in pain, Ethan!"

"SOMEONE PULL HIM OUT!" Gwen screamed through the crack in the door. "SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!"

Abbey rolled up her lab coat sleeves over her muscular arms. She stormed around the body and grabbed Snape's shoulders, pulling him away from the table, shaking him. It was immediately effective. Snape's eyes blinked and returned to normal. His mouth loosened and he took his hands off of the body, staggering backwards. Abbey kept him upright as he fell back, panting, eyes wide. His forehead shone with sweat.

Abbey was staring at him with an expression of both horror and blatant fascination. "What the hell did you just do?" she hissed, gripping his arms.

He didn't answer straight away. In fact, he still looked as though he wasn't sure where he was. He stared around with jerking head movements before he seemed to remember everything that had just happened, and he tore out of Abbey's hands, wiping his nose.

"Well..." Ethan said quietly, putting distance between Snape and himself "That was..."

"Horrifying," Supergirl finished. She took in a deep breath. "But did you find anything?"

After clearing the blood from his face, Snape was still trembling but he was obviously trying to regain some of his mental cool. He straightened up right, folding his hands behind his back, and glanced down at Marsh's body.

"The General and Marsh ...spoke in a restaurant," His voice cracked and he shook his head, his breathing uneven. "I saw...wood, an old photograph, and a plate of some kind of red meat...and that bite-mask...but I couldn't see anything else. I believe...I believe the memories are all gone now."

"Kinda sounds like a Cracker Barrel!" Gwen called in.

"You think Hannibal talked to Marsh in a _Cracker Barrel_?" Ethan called back. And Gwen shrugged.

"I dunno. We could check every Cracked Barrel near here and ask if they had anyone come in wearing a mask like that! Though, I'm not sure why Hannibal would even WEAR a mask like that out of jail,"

"I mean, you did say he was dramatic," Supergirl said to Ethan.

Snape blinked several times and leaned a hand on the table to support himself. He was still swaying slightly.

"I don't know how long ago it was," he murmured. "If anyone saw him...they could've been fired or laid off in the days between...whenever that happened or today."

"It's still worth a shot," Ethan said. He smiled uncomfortably at Snape. "Good job. Why don't you sit down? You look terrible."

Snape glared and straightened up again. "I'm fine. We need to tell Mr Hunley the update and continue strategizing,"

"Still, it's okay to take a break-"

But Snape had already swept by him and exited the morgue. He didn't look at Gwen as he passed her by.

She watched him leave down the hallway with wide eyes. A small part of her wished he would've told her "good job" or "excellent idea" but she knew that would've shown even more blatantly that there was something wrong with him.

Ethan and Supergirl exited next and Gwen rose to her feet, jogging besides Ethan as they made their way back towards the elevator. She could hear Abbey and Sherlock arguing with one another.

"I gave Abbey the thumbs-up to do her thing. Sherlock's not very happy. I think he might be a little intimidated that he's not the only genius anymore," Ethan sighed. Gwen's eyebrows raised.

"Genius? You talking about Snape?"

"Well, I don't know how he did what he did so, I'm gonna assume that- yeah- he's a genius," Ethan laughed. "I mean, he's a weirdo and he, um, kinda scares me. And I don't trust him. But you said he was brilliant and...after what I just saw there...I think you got a gift."

"A gift?"

"Of selecting Characters we could use to fight Hannibal," Ethan said. "So...Gwen..."

She smiled when she heard him say her name. "Yeah?"

"Is there anyone else out there you think could help us? Anyone else you think might...I dunno...be of help? Anyone,"

She thought for a moment. She began to weigh Characters in her mind. Characters she liked, disliked, that she knew were still alive, that she knew would be willing to help.

She gasped and clasped her hands together.

"Ethan," she said excitedly. "Do you know who Constable Odo is?"


	8. The Slashers Allied Legion

There was a black leather purse two tables across the food court. The Niffler watched it hungrily, rubbing its paws together, sniffing at it with its yellow beak. It began to scratch at the table, wiggling its tiny stubby tail.

The General skewered a piece of quiche with a fork and said- "No," before placing the quiche in his mouth and chewing calmly.

The Niffler ceased scratching and shot a disgruntled look at the General, who was reading a flimsy, tattered brown book with the words PSYCHOLOGICAL ADVANCEMENTS OF THE 2OTH CENTURY across the front.

The Niffler returned its gaze at the purse where a dark-skinned woman with curly black hair was eating a dish of poutine and looking at her phone. It began to scratch again, more aggressively.

"Goldblüd, I said no," Hannibal said, a bit more coldly. He turned the page of his book. "What did I tell you about manners at the dinner table?"

Goldblüd scowled at him as if to say- 'It's only lunch time, silly human.' but the General raised his eyebrows, still focusing on his book, and responded- "Don't give me that look. I taught you better than that,"

The Niffler looked at the purse again, sniffing. It also glanced at several people who passed by the table and gave it peculiar looks. Nifflers were not common animals but they were just average-looking enough in Charactia that people didn't question them. In fact, Hannibal hasn't even known it was called a "Niffler" until the Commander has told him.

And the people in the Green Mist Shopping Center recognized the Niffler's owner, and were quite used to avoiding him.

The small town of Green Mist, Colorado, was on barely any maps and existed just underneath the mountain where the Overlook Hotel was. The tiny town was well-aware of the wanted criminals who lived about an hour away from them and they lived with that. The town was in constant fear of the General and the monsters. They had been for almost four years.

The last time they had attempted to report the monsters' whereabouts was about two years ago. When sounds of a distress call came from an old woman's house, the mayor mysteriously disappeared after meeting privately with the General and a teenager covered in blood somehow lit the house on fire without any kind of match, lighter, or kindling. The old woman had also disappeared.

The Green Mist Shopping Center was free-reign for the General and his people. It was large enough for strangers that he could sneak around without really being recognized but full enough of Green Mist civilians who recognized him and kept up the fear he had the town in, preventing him from being caught.

That being said, there were about four empty tables surrounding the General and people were praying that he hadn't made any personal additions to the quiche he had ordered from Starbucks.

Goldblüd arched his back and chittered at the purse once more. He licked his beak and then, he took off like a shot across the table towards the purse- a bid for the shiny artifacts he could sense in the purse...an attempt that didn't last long.

With lightning reflexes, Lecter grasped the Niffler's small tail firmly with his thumb and index finger, without once ever looking away from his book. The Niffler scratched and struggled for freedom but Hannibal never once let go.

"I told you no,"

He set the book down and picked up Goldblüd by the tail, who was still scratching and snuffling at him. With his free hand, the General unzipped a black duffle bag that was sitting next to him on the table bench and dropped the Niffler inside. Goldblüd hissed up at him from inside the bag and the General hissed back at him as he zipped the bag closed.

Hannibal composed himself, straightening the collar on his blue jumpsuit, and picked up his book again. He now chose to sip at the green straw of an ice Vanilla Bean Frappuccino, topped with whipped cream, also purchased from Starbucks.

He pulled a mechanical blue pen from behind one of his sticky-out ears and flipped to the very back of the book. The back of the back page and cover were covered in pen doodles. He was rapidly running out of room but he had a top right corner that was still bare.

The General drew people. More specifically, he drew people that didn't know he was drawing them. It was easier to get a more diverse range of movements and faces from the subject if they didn't realize that they were the subject.

The Lieutenant compared this form of sketching as "stalking" but the General preferred to call it "stalking with purpose".

He also preferred to draw humans. He found them fascinating.

He watched the woman who owned the black leather purse with watchful, unblinking eyes. In one easy move, he drew the curves of her side-profile. He moved a line down to form her neck as she sat hunched over her phone and began to shade the thick dreadlocks upon her head like a dark blue cloud.

She scrolled once on her phone and the General calmly clicked his pen off and tucked it behind his ear again. Just as he predicted, she rose to her feet and tucked her phone into her purse. Swinging it over her shoulder, she straightened up and she looked directly at the General.

Hannibal winked and the woman's eyes widened as she broke into a fast walk away from him.

Shovelling the last of his quiche into his mouth, the General closed up his book and unzipped his duffle-bag again to reveal Goldblüd, fast asleep wrapped around a large quarter. Hannibal scratched him behind the ears while nestling the book inside and zipped it back up.

He crossed the duffle-bag over his shoulder and picked up his Frappuccino, making his way through the food court and to the escalators.

He had to meet with the Advisor at the front of the mall in about ten minutes but frankly, he didn't want to meet up with the Advisor at all. And frankly, the Advisor wasn't the one in charge.

He leaned on the ascending escalator side, drinking his Frappuccino, and watching the stores on the next level up come into view. He stepped off the moving staircase and began to make his way down the corridor.

Hannibal Lecter could part crowds like the Red Sea when he walked. He had this sort of gravitas about him, an air that meant he was the alpha any time he entered a room. Maybe it was the way he could move his hips with almost feminine confidence. Or maybe it was the way he chose to ignore everyone who stared as if he simply didn't give a care in the world. Maybe it was because people thought he would snap any second and bite them on the shoulder.

Whatever the reason, the way he walked and asserted his dominance, Hannibal was able to walk around like he owned the world. After all, he _wanted_ to own the world, so why not practice now?

His eyes drifted to the right at a passing dress shop and he instantly froze before the window where there were about four white mannequins. The General stirred his drink and stared at the middle mannequin, which was wearing a long sleeveless and strapless red dress with black lacy flowers at the bottom.

He looked the dress up and down. He smirked to himself and entered the store. The Advisor was not going to like what he was about to do. And that was exactly what Hannibal wanted.

When the front doors of the mall slid open, the General swaggered out with not only his duffle-bag and ice cream drink, but four more large bags with two draped over each arm and a pair of new aviator sunglasses on his face.

The Advisor was leaning against support beams of the concrete awning and his jaw dropped open when he watched the General arrive.

"What're you looking at?" Hannibal snapped.

Children would cry if they as so much as saw the Advisor for a mere second. He was almost the same size as Jason but just a bit scarier. He had the same wide shoulders, tough hands, and thick arms but he had a mass of black hair on his head. He wore a dirty brown apron, a white collar shirt rolled up at the elbows, and a black tie with matching black pants and shoes. But on his face he wore a brown mask, crudely stitched together with space for his mouth and eyes. However, he also wore a pair of thick brown glasses which to many of the monsters believed took away from the horrifying mask. The children who entered the mall past him would disagree.

"Where the hell have you been?" Leatherface demanded as the General began to saunter into the bright and sunny parking lot.

"I was in the mall,"

"Well, I figured THAT out," The Advisor began to jog alongside him. "You told me you wanted lunch. Fifteen minutes tops! And I've been out here for over half an hour!"

The General shrugged. "That's only another fifteen minutes. I thought you were good with numbers,"

"And I thought you were supposed to be a genius. Two fifteen minutes make a half hour and that's way longer than one set of fifteen minutes."

"I _am_ a genius, Advisor. I calculated that the crew will be back from New York later than we scheduled due to the detour that they'll have to take in the sewer system even if the Lieutenant has meticulously laid out. And one of them is bound to stay behind for some stupid reason, probably the Chief. And there's a strong chance one of them could get hurt doing something stupid. And the Captain doesn't have a license meaning that he may get pulled over once or twice,"

"Why would he get pulled over?"

"For speeding, of course,"

"Why would he be speeding?"

"The Commander probably did something stupid that alerted the cops and he had to speed to get to their rendezvous point by the Central Park Zoo and then get out of the city, of course,"

"You're positive about all of this,"

"No. But like you said," He flashed a smirk, "I am a genius."

The Advisor rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah. And what do you think the Commander did that alerted the cops?"

"Oh, probably shot himself or something,"

The two reached the back of the parking lot and stood beside an older-looking white van with a license plate that had a picture of a white poodle. In the driver's seat sat the Scout, who had a hand lying lazily out of the window while patting the side to the radio.

The Scout's expressions were impossible to tell because he was wearing a white mask that looked very similar to Captain James T Kirk's face, complete with a tuft of fake brown hair. But the way he suddenly turned to face the General spoke volumes about what his expression probably was.

"Golly, General, that's- that's a lot of stuff!"

"Yes, well, it's like I always say- 'Treat Yourself',"

The Advisor crossed his arms. "And exactly how did you pay for all of that?

"Do you need to know?"

"I'm the _Advisor_,"

"Yeah, I only gave you that title because we ran out of military ranks and you're a math geek. Open that up, would ya?"

The General gestured to the van's side door and rolling his eyes, the Advisor slid it open. This revealed a dirty back that was hollowed out with racks and benches on each side, separated from the front cabin. The General began to unload his bags into the back. He hung up a third bag, which was clearly holding a dress, but held onto the fourth.

"This one's got breakable things in it," he said. He propped his aviator sunglasses onto his balding head and looked over at a red car two parking spaces down where a woman was fastening a baby into a car seat. "Oi!"

The woman turned around, searching for who had called and froze when she locked eye contact with Hannibal, who smiled and waved.

"Yes, miss, sorry, but you need to turn the car-seat the other way!" he called.

The woman's enormous eyes turned to Leatherface who shrugged and added- "Yeah, lady, that's so not cool. Your kid could totally die."

The woman looked at the Scout, who moved his arm into the van and rolled up the window. Then, she nodded shakily and began to fuss with car-seat with trembling hands, moving it the other way.

The General sighed, lowered his sunglasses, and strode around the Advisor to the passenger's seat.

"I hate children," he muttered and sipped at his drink.

The portal line, where the Torrancemobile would be able to appear once outside of the New York area, was part-way up the mountain highway that led to the Overlook Hotel. It was just a fifteen past a small convenience store and gas station that served as a halfway point between Green Mist and The Overlook.

The General, the Advisor, and the Scout had parked the white van on the side of the road, awaiting the arrival of the yellow bug. The Lieutenant and his crew were, as the General had predicted, late. They sat in silence in the front of the van with the General in the passengers seat, the Scout at the wheel, and the Advisor at the bench behind them. The Scout tapped at the wheel.

"Do you...mind if I turn on some tunes?"

"That might be nice," the General said, rummaging through the shopping bag on his lap. "Seeing as we'll probably be here for a few minutes more."

"How late do you think they'll be?" the Advisor said as Michael clicked on the radio. He turned a dial up a bit and the song 'That'll Be The Day' came into earshot.

"Like I said, a few minutes more- oh!" Hannibal's head shot up from the bag. "Oh- this song's classy- turn it up-"

"No- please- don't-" the Advisor begged but of course, the Scout cranked the volume and the quick cymbal riffs blasted through the van.

"Oh yeah, that's NICE. Excellent call, General!" Michael yeah and bobbed his head over the now loud but bubbling voice of Buddy Holly.

The Advisor buried his face in his hands. Hannibal cleaned off his aviator sunglasses with the collar of his jumpsuit, not for any other particular reason than wanting to look cool.

"Oh relax, Advisor, at least the Lieutenant knows when to have a good time,"

"Yeah, Advisor," Michael tacked on.

"You still never told me how you paid for that," Leatherface barked, jabbing a finger at the wall that separated them from the back.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't pay for any of it,"

"Yeah, Advisor, he didn't pay for any-"

"Shut up, Michael,"

"Sorry, sir,"

They didn't say anything else to each other until Hannibal straightened up in his chair, squinting at the rear-view mirror. He slid his glasses onto his head and pointed the mirror down so he could have a better look. He turned in his chair.

"Advisor- move for a second- slide over there-"

The Advisor did as he was told and Hannibal peered through the small window on the divider wall that allowed him to see through the back of the van and through the back-door windows.

He watched as the yellow bug drove around the corner towards them.

Hannibal instantly removed his seatbelt. "They're here,"

He opened the van door and jumped out, running onto the road and waving his arms. The bug slowed to a stop and the exchange was quick but just about how he predicted.

Samara and Krueger jumped out of the car and into the back seat of the van, squeezing in with the Advisor, both arguing. Jason was bleeding dark red throughout the back of the bug's seat and Jack revealed that they hadn't managed to get all of the ice cream.

Hannibal waved him through and ordered him to go ahead first so that Jason could get proper treatment. He watched the license plate-less car speed away as he got back into the van's passengers seat. Then, the van took off after the bug.

Krueger and Samara were still arguing.

"If you had given me five more minutes, we could've kept a hostage-"

"That wasn't the plan! Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

"You guys wanna tell us what the hell happened?" the Advisor snapped, pinned against the wall.

"Oh, simple," Krueger said. "The Chief here almost got arrested and jeopardized the entire plan!"

"You moron, the Commander's the one who got shot! And you're lucky I stuck around because I saw the All-Knower!"

Hannibal looked at her. "Wait- what? You saw Alice?"

"Yes! And we would have her to if it weren't for Dr Brenner's prized puppy," Samara snarled.

Hannibal suddenly reached out and grabbed the Scout's arm. The van screeched to a sudden halt and Leatherface whacked his head on the General's chair.

"What did you just say?!"

"That man- Snake! He's the guy who attacked me and the Commander at Charactia Center," Krueger said. "He showed up inside the store to try and stop us."

"He is the reason the Plan is still in force," Hannibal whispered, his eyes wide, staring at his lap. His hand was still on Michael's arm. "How did he know you were there?"

"He probably recognized the Captain," the Lieutenant suggested. "He was probably trying to free the hostages single-handedly. I wouldn't put it past him. He could've done it too."

"You had us surrounding him!" Samara said shrilly.

Krueger held up a hand. "I misjudged his powers. It was an error on my part. He's more powerful than I remembered. I thought we could outnumber him."

Snapping his fingers at the Chief, Hannibal asked- "You said that you could've captured Alice,"

"Yeah?"

"And that you couldn't because of Snape,"

"The Prize. Yeah. I tried to kill him. I think I broke his hand but I swear to God, Lieutenant, how you EVER misjudged his power is a mystery to me,"

"You retreated,"

"You should've run to us in the first place!" Krueger cried. "That was the plan!"

"Hold on a moment, Lieutenant. You said he attacked you in Charactia Center," the General said. "When you saw Alice for the first time. When we fought Hunt. Which can only mean-"

"Alice might be working with the IMF _and_ Snape," Michael breathed.

"Exactly," Hannibal took his hand off of the Scout and turned the key in the ignition, starting the van. The van started off again. He folded his fingers. "So. Ethan Hunt has taken a liking to the All-Knower And Snape's caught in between it all."

"That complicates things for us," Krueger said. "Because Snape knows us and if he goes to the IMF-"

"The IMF has the All-Knower. It works in our favour,"

"How?"

"Because," Hannibal smirked. "she _apparently_ knows all about us."

He shot a sly smile around the van and slowly, one by one, they began to smile and nod as they realized what he meant.

Lecter's mind was already perfecting a fool-proof plan and he exhaled happily as he began to rummage through the shopping bag in his lap.

"I should probably mention that I bought you something, Advisor,"

Leatherface stuck his nose in the air. "I'm not interest-"

"It's a mug with the Pi decimal number on it,"

"Give it to me,"

Hannibal lazily passed back a white coffee mug with stripes but a careful examination would show that the thin stripes were actually numbers in the Pi number decimal- which, of course, was impossible to complete. But it was a nice design and the Advisor looked at it with unapologetic happiness.

Then, his eyes narrowed and he coughed out a rough-

"Thank you,"

"What else did you get?" Krueger asked, craning his neck as if to look inside the shopping bag in Lecter's lap.

"There's more in the back,"

"And...how did you pay for it?"

Leatherface looked at the ceiling raising a hand and shaking his head in annoyance. Still smirking, Hannibal winked at Krueger and replied-

"I didn't,"

"So you robbed them?"

"Oh no. They gave it all to me for free. Only after I told them how they'd taste with various Italian spices, of course,"

He smiled out the window at the beautiful memory of the widening cashiers' eyes as they broke into a sudden nervous sweat. Seeing people react that way to him gave him such a burst of serotonin. It reminded him just how powerful he was.

The van turned another corner on the mountain and there sat the Overlook Hotel, nestled in the mountain like a demented gingerbread house with its dark brown shingles and pointed rooftops sprinkled with white snow powder. The parking lot was barren except for the yellow bug, which was parked next to the door.

The white van pulled into the parking lot and parked smoothly into a space in the middle row. They all climbed out and stood in the cold mountain air. Hannibal lowered his sunglasses onto his face and placed the bag on the crevice of his left arm, making his way around the van to collect the rest of his things.

"Um- um- sir-" Myers scrambled beside him as Hannibal slid the back door open and draped the garment bag with the red dress also over his left arm. "Sir- how about I take some of that-"

"Nonsense, I'm fine," Hannibal said. He picked up the next bag, hung it from his elbow and then held the final back. "But you can close the door if you want. Oh, and grab my duffle bag. It's not heavy, I just have my hands full."

"Oh, of course and- um- you forgot your drink,"

He handed the General the half-finished Frappuccino.

"What would I do without you, Scout?" Hannibal sighed but he didn't look at him. The group made their way across the parking lot towards the entrance of the Hotel.

Krueger jogged up besides Hannibal. "You know, you stealing stuff from the mall- I mean, it's fun but...that's all gonna catch up and bite you in the ass at some point,"

"The people of that town are too terrified that _I'm_ going to bite _them_ in the ass," he said. "They won't condemn me."

"People are tough, General, you should know that,"

"Of course I know that. But those people are cowards,"

"If you want to keep them in fear, maybe you should pay for something so that it keeps you unpredictable," Krueger suggested.

"Actually, that's a pretty good idea. It's a shame we don't, you know, have any legitimate money," Hannibal groaned.

Krueger shrugged. "We could always rob a bank,"

Smirking at him, Hannibal sipped at his drink. "Let's add that to the side list, shall we?"

They approached the entrance doors and once the Lieutenant spoke his name into the door intercom, they slowly opened up. Except this time, the Grady Twins were not standing there and the group was able to enter the large gold and red lobby without delay. However, something made them stop dead in their tracks

At the end of the lobby, near the entrance to the great Colorado Room, the Commander was lying against one of the red pillars surrounded by Jack and Morgana Pendragon. There was dark red, almost black blood staining the yellow reflective floor around them and Morgana was making odd hand movements around Jason's knee.

Hannibal watched her, his mouth hanging open as the blood pooling near them was slowly retracting back into the Commander's leg and her long fluid words in a strange tongue all strung together like some foreign poem.

Her hands and fingers danced through the air and suddenly, the Commander gasped out with a loud- "Wow," He then began to flex his knee and got to his feet. And just like that, he began to skip around Morgana, who was still kneeling.

"This is great! This is so great! Thank you so much!"

"Don't mention it,"

"But-"

"Ever,"

Morgana got to her own feet, Hannibal still watching her dumbfounded, and she smoothed her dress out, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. She turned on her heel and strode into the Colorado Room. Jack and Jason shrugged at each other and Jack ran to the entrance door, most likely to retrieve the ice cream in the car. Jason, however, approached the General, still skipping like he was five.

"Hey, General, did you see that? Wasn't that something? Gosh, bringing her to life was such a good idea I- General?"

The General wasn't looking at the Commander. He wasn't sure he was looking at anything, actually. He was more or less still looking at the image of Morgana healing Jason's leg even though it was over now. He wasn't sure why he was still thinking about it. Usually, that sort of thing didn't stick with him. But now-

"Hey,"

Krueger elbowed him and Hannibal gasped as he suddenly snapped back to reality. He looked up at the Commander and nodded, shaking slightly. Then, his eyes drifted back to the Colorado Room entrance.

"Yeah, yeah, fantastic,"

He began to stride towards it, and the rest of them started following him again, surrounding him to hear what he would say next.

"Lieutenant, come with me. The rest of you, I want you down in the room in about fifteen minutes, you got it? I'll have Wendy send out a reminder. Scout? I need you to take that bag up to Room 91,"

"Sir, I'd love to but- um- I don't have the codes to, um, get into your room-" Michael was panting as he tried to keep up Hannibal.

"Very well," Lecter groaned. He stopped, cleared his throat, and then- "WENDY!"

The group now had one more member who suddenly appeared in less than an instant. It was a woman, somewhere in her late thirties, with large dark eyes that seemed to pop from her face, long wiry black hair that clung to her face, and two large front teeth. She was wearing a green plaid shirt over a beige turtleneck, which was all underneath a brown corduroy dress. She also had on baggy pants that were tucked into clunky winter boots.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked in a monotone.

"Yes, I need you to take these all of this up to my room." Hannibal began to unload the garment bag and two of his shopping bags into the woman's arms. She looked frail enough already but the weight didn't seem to bother her.

Gesturing to the duffle bag in Michael's arms, he added- "And take the bag too. Goldblüd's in there so don't let him out or he'll wreak havoc, you got that? Use code B-1329-0 for my room."

He raised his sunglasses onto his forehead and winked, pointing at the number printed black on the left side of his jumpsuit chest.

Wendy rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know what the code looks like." She stepped forward and retrieved the duffle bag from Michael, swinging it over her shoulder. "You know, I think you have a spending problem."

"News flash, Wendy, I don't give a damn what you think," Lecter snapped. He waved with a smirk. "Goodbye."

She rolled her buggy eyes once more and just like that, she was gone. Vanished in midair. Hannibal slurped back the last of his Frappuccino and patted the shopping bag left on his arm.

"Come with me, Lieutenant,"

Hannibal and Krueger passed through the doors into the cavernous Colorado Room with its tall windows, large fireplace, leathery sofas, and wooden tables. From atop the balcony, they could see Morgana, with her back to them, reading intently at one of the far tables where Jack's typewriter lay abandoned (which was unusual to see).

They began to descend the great staircases into the Colorado Room and Hannibal grinned broadly as he broke into a quick jog across the room to where Morgana sat.

"Good morning, my lady,"

Morgana turned her head a bit to see him and then looked away, rolling her bright green eyes. "Good morning, General,"

He seated himself in a wooden chair besides her and placed his large shopping bag on the floor.

"I have a present for you,"

"Oh joy,"

After rummaging around in the large bag, Lecter revealed a black wide-brimmed hat and smiled. Morgana, however, stared at the hat with disgust.

"What is that?"

"It's a hat,"

"I'm well-aware that it's a hat but why would I need it?"

"Well, as wonderfully intricate as that dress is, you have been wearing it for thousands of years and I'm doesn't exactly hold up by today's standards. So when you are eventually required to leave the Hotel, you will need something a bit more modern," Hannibal explained.

The Lieutenant appeared between them and looked at the hat, then at Morgana.

"He's right, you know,"

Morgana scoffed and returned her gaze back to the thick book she was reading. Krueger scoffed as well.

"Well, he is. As much as you might hate to think it, our jobs all require us to blend in because, you know, the cops are after us," He shot a look at Hannibal who scowled at him.

"You never wear a disguise in Green Mist either, genius," he snapped.

"Yeah, it's just that I want what's best for the Plan and sometimes you tend to get-"

"Get what? Careless?"

Krueger bit his bottom lip as Hannibal's glare intensified, and the Lieutenant decided that he didn't trust himself to finish the sentence. He swallowed and turned his attention to Morgana.

"So what're you reading?"

"None of your business,"

Rolling his eyes, Krueger leaned over the bag on the floor. "What, uh, what else did you get in there?"

"If you're wondering if I bought you anything-"

"Psh, what? No, I was just...curious, that's all,"

Hannibal raised his eyebrows and began to rummage through the bag again. Then, a wide smirk crossed his face. Slowly, he pulled out a large orange binder and Krueger gasped, covering his mouth with his hands.

"Is that-"

"Waterproof, interior pockets," Hannibal began to move the binder around. He put his nose to it. "And it still has a new smell-"

"Gimme, gimme, come on-" Krueger grasped the binder and smelled it, grinning. "Oh hell yeah, that's the good stuff and-" He suddenly made a highly unflattering squeal as the binder fell open revealing that it came with multicoloured divider pages. "General- oh my- Thank you- I've been working on new Plan statistics and this is-"

"Ayyyyyyy!"

"Ayyyyyyy!" Hannibal replied, winking.

Krueger was biting his lip and it looked as though he might cry. He ran a burnt hand over the front of the binder and began to examine it.

"Morgana- Morgana- check this out- The General and I are Binder Buddies!"

"I don't care," Morgana grumbled.

Lecter set the black hat on the table and pushed it towards her and winked, even though she didn't see it, and said- "For your consideration," Then, he rose to his feet. "Lieutenant, if you would follow me to my office, I have to add some new touches to the Plan into this lovely thing."

"Wait," Krueger said quietly. "Does this mean we're going to...laminate?"

Hannibal grinned.

The General had a laminator in his room. Which was on the floor directly above his office. No one ever went inside without permission and it was such an unusual room that nobody exactly was eager to go inside. He kept all of his belongings well-hidden, and his private life was maintained...well...privately. No one was to enter his room unless he commanded it and sometimes, he would disappear for long periods of time inside to do plotting and self-indulgent activities. But it was such a complicated and peculiar room that to describe it right now would take too much time and ruin the surprise for what was inside.

So for now, all you will know about Hannibal Lecter's room is that he had a laminator inside of it. And he and Krueger used it constantly.

After about ten minutes of laminating long pages of notes, and fawning over how smooth they could make them before intricately measuring and cutting the sides so each page was bordered perfectly, the General and the Lieutenant added the new plans to their binders and returned to the Colorado room.

Neither of them discussed the plan. To do so before a meeting would just be bad form.

Morgana was still reading inside the Colorado Room when the two had entered it, except now Jack was sitting at his typewriter again.

The General ordered the Lieutenant and the Captain to connect the long table at the end of the room table in the center of the room so they could have one long meeting table.

While two men moved the tables with shocking ease, Morgana took refuge on a comfy armchair and Hannibal decided to play a smooth waltz on the grand piano next to the staircase.

Piano was one of his self-indulgent activities as he had taught himself and was incredibly good at it. The music echoed through the Colorado Room and gave it a nice homey feel to it, so much so that even Morgana had put her book down for a moment to listen in.

The General, crossing his hands over each other gracefully as they danced up and down the keyboard, noticed her watching him and decided that perhaps he should play something more complicated and fast. So he sped the waltz up to a speed it probably shouldn't have been and smiled broadly at Morgana as he did so.

She looked back at her book and the waltz slowed significantly.

Once the tables, chairs, and benches had been set up, the Lieutenant approached Hannibal at the piano and asked-

"You want the white board?"

"Of course," Hannibal said, now playing a jazz piece that interchanged between slow and suddenly fast.

And so Krueger left the room down a hallway at the very back and returned with the large whiteboard, which he rolled at the end of the tables.

Hannibal then proceeded to summon The Wendy. She blinked into a existence at the end of the piano and he commanded her to give an announcement throughout the hotel that there would be a "Legion-wide meeting" in the Colorado Room. He also commanded her to broadcast her message to the Tracker, who would still be in New York City.

She then disappeared with her order, and threw her voice throughout the hotel, repeating his words.

"Legion?" Krueger asked, once the announcement was over and Wendy's voice had stopped spookily bouncing around the room. We haven't called ourselves a 'legion' since-"

"I figured it would get everyone's attention," Hannibal cracked his fingers and began to play Grieg's 'Hall of the Mountain King' just as the villains began to descend the grand staircase of the Colorado Room.

Almost every member of the monsters had arrived into the Colorado Room. They all had flooded in, chatting excitedly or looking as thought they'd rather be anywhere else, in about four minutes but Lecter refused to start until Pennywise had come.

The villains all sat at the tables, and Morgana soon joined them, sitting at the end near the white board across from Jack- who was typing again. Hannibal had just begun to play a graceful version of Marc Cohn's "Walking in Memphis" but just as he finished the first verse, the Lieutenant persuaded him to start the meeting.

Almost simultaneously, the orange-haired and white-frilled Pennywise appeared at the top of the stairs with a pair of headphones in and his hand in a bag of Cheetos.

And with that, all eighteen horror villains were seated at the long table with their eyes on Hannibal who stood before them with his binder in hand. He smirked around at all of them.

"Well, I know it's only been two days since our last full meeting but I must say, it always feels good to see you all in one room," he said, his fingers drumming on his binder. "Before we begin, I just wanted to say that our retrieval for more cream has paid off and we should be able to initiate another resurrection very soon."

Michael Myers clapped appreciatively. He was the only one who did so. Krueger, who was sitting next to Morgana, rolled his eyes and stuck his feet up on the table.

"Yes, thank you, Scout," Hannibal said, nodding at Myers in acknowledgement. "Now, do we have any questions before we begin?"

Jason raised hand and Hannibal rolled his eyes.

"Why am I not surprised. Yes, Commander?"

"What's the bag full of?"

The group looked past the whiteboard to the far left corner of the room where the shopping bag that had held Morgana's hat sat.

"I went shopping,"

"What did you buy?"

"I don't think that's any of your business,"

"Don't say that," Krueger sighed. "Then they'll start guessing."

"Did you get me anything?" Jason asked.

"Why would I bother getting you anything?" Hannibal scoffed.

"Ooh, did you get one of those 'Kiss the Cook' aprons?" giggled a girl of eleven or ten, who was sitting near Pennywise. The girl had cuts on her face, beady yellow eyes, bushy brown hair, and a nightdress stained with green. Samara snickered behind her hand, as did most of the other monsters.

There was a headache coming.

"Why would I need one of those, Colonel?" Lecter forced his voice to stay calm. Regan shrugged.

"I dunno, you cook and well..." She held back a laugh. "You could use the...um...romantic help."

A few people laughed. The Lieutenant winced and the tips of Hannibal's ears flushed a bright pink.

"That's ridiculous," he snapped. "I don't need any form of 'romantic help'. I've- I've kissed plenty of women, I'll have you know."

"Okay, but like, why haven't we met them?" Samara called.

"Yeah. We've never SEEN you kiss anyone," Regan added.

"Come for think of it, we've never seen you cook! How do we even know you've done that?" Jason pointed.

The table began to laugh again and Hannibal's cheeks were now as pink as his ears. He scowled around at them all and they fell silent.

"Any other questions?"

Nobody raised their hands.

Lecter turned and began to write on the whiteboard with a red marker. "So during this meeting, we're going to discuss just who will be initiating the next resurrection. And we will also be going over the plan that the Secretary and I discussed. I will be assigning Legionnaires to both areas and-"

He glanced over his shoulder and froze writing. Everyone at the table now had their hands in the air, except for Morgana who was still reading, and the Secretary who was on her phone.

"I thought you said you didn't have any other questions?" Hannibal snapped.

"Permission to speak, General," Samara said from the back. "But that was before you mentioned that the Secretary and you made a new plan."

"Yeah, and now we have a helluva lot of questions," Krueger added on. "Is this that plan you excluded me out of two days ago?"

"Wait, you excluded him?" Leatherface cried from next to Samara. "Isn't he your second?"

"Yeah, what makes the Secretary so special?" Samara drawled.

"Ha, you should know the answer to that question," Carrie scoffed.

"No, I don't. Please humour me," Samara snapped back.

"Honestly though, why tell her and not me?" Krueger said with his eyes narrowing. "Is she going to replace me or something?" Hannibal rolled his own eyes.

"Lieutenant, you know very well-"

"We're going to be replaced?!" Jigsaw (a thin man in a suit, red bow-tie, and white painted face with red targets on the cheeks) suddenly jumped to his feet and gripped his slick black hair.

There was an uproar. Every Legionnaire began to demand answers and ask bizarre questions. They began to push each other out of the way so that they could be seen at the table and then, they started yelling loudly at each other. Krueger was snapping at Carrie, who snapped back, and the table was suddenly a loud and obnoxious wall of sound.

Hannibal could feel the headache throbbing in behind his eyes as he raised his hands and tried to speak over the shouting but the wall of sound only increased in volume.

Grinding his teeth together, clenching his fists, Hannibal tensed his body and screamed-

"SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP! OR SO HELP ME, I'LL BOIL YOU ALIVE ATOP THE BLOODY MOUNTAIN! GOT IT?"

Immediate silence. Everyone froze and stared at him with wide eyes. Krueger gave a slow whistle and those who had been standing returned to their seats. Even Morgana had put down her book in shock.

Hannibal took in a deep breath and turned back to the board. He forced a smile onto his face and looked back over his shoulder.

"May I continue?"

The Legion nodded simultaneously. They all looked a little afraid. It gave the General a nice warm feeling in his stomach.

He continued to draw a red two-column chart on the board with the box on the left reading "The Secretary" and the box on the right reading "Germany".

"Captain, I would like you to copy this down as the first meeting of the properly named Slashers Allied Legion," he said, writing the title at the top of the chart. "I understand it's been a very _very_ long time since we referred to ourselves as Legion but I believe it to be necessary. You see, we were at war when we first called ourselves that and now, with the new developments, I believe we are at war once again." He turned to the Legion, hands folded behind his back and smirking.

A very small Legionnaire with wild orange hair who wearing jean overalls and a striped shirt climbed up onto the table. He raised a small plastic hand.

"Yes, First Analyzer?"

"What would these new developments be?" Chucky asked in a deep voice that did in no way fit his small doll form.

And after a while, Hannibal managed to explain how the man called Snape that they had met quite a while ago was back at large. The General explained his suspicions that Snape was working with the IMF and he then turned the speech over to Samara, who explained everything that had happened at the Party City.

"I never got to properly meet Snape," the First Analyzer said. "What does he look like again?"

"He's the one with that gross mop of hair and the nose that's too big for his face," Pennywise said quietly, still crunching on Cheetos. His eyes were still wide and almost vacant. "He's terrifying."

"And if he's close by the All-Knower, that means we'll have to get rid of him," Samara added. "Which is going to be difficult."

"What if it's a coincidence?" Krueger suggested. "What if Snape isn't working with the IMF and he just happens to be stalking us just as they are?"

"Are you implying that I'm wrong?" Hannibal asked calmly, but there was testiness in his voice. Krueger glanced around and twiddled his thumbs. In a small voice he said-

"Well...maybe..."

"Because if I am wrong and Snape isn't working with Alice, why would he rescue her from the Commander and you?"

"Because he's a good person?" Jason asked.

Hannibal scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh please. There are no good people, Commander. There are only people that do things deemed 'good' in the eyes of their superiors," he said. "People are inherently bad. They like to pretend that they aren't with ridiculous little experiments where babies share food with one another when in reality, those babies have already been impressed upon by superiors that food is to be shared. We are taught what is "good" and what is "bad", and each definition varies. And people find us fascinating because we, the "bad guys", are the very things they are forbidden from. But they are only forbidden from it by other people when inherently, if a child is never told that lying is wrong, they will only tell lies and they won't think anything of it."

There was a very long and very awkward silence.

"Yeah, that's cool and everything but you didn't answer his, um, question about why Snape helped Alice," Krueger spoke up.

"I don't know, man, I'm spitballing here," Hannibal groaned. "I haven't seen enough of Snape with Alice to make a proper psychological profile but if he's rescued her twice now, that speaks something about him. But my current hypothesis, if you would call it that, is that wherever he comes from, he either failed to rescue or continuously rescued younglings in particular areas of peril. So, based on how he communicates with Alice, he either feels as though he is responsible to save younger people to appease his own inner demons or simply because he believes that he is the right thing to do. Now, based on the connection he had with me, I believe that he believes it's the right thing to do but also I believe he is unable to stop himself from rescuing others, as it has been drilled so far into his mind. Even those he does not wish to help-" He smirked. "- he helps. And I believe he is incredibly insecure about this, judging from how he did not make a grandiose deal about stopping the Chief."

Another long and uncomfortable pause. Hannibal was still smirking and he looked quite proud of himself and his theory. Then, there was a sound of snoring and the Legion looked down the table to see Samara, who was pretending to nod off. She sat upright dramatically and then-

"I'm sorry," she drawled. "I fell asleep because...that was so boring."

The General scowled at her and a few members shrunk. But Samara leaned her cheek on her hand and said-

"And what if you're wrong about all of this?"

"I'm not,"

"And how was any of that supposed to help us?"

"Insecurity is weakness and if we can use it to our advantage," Hannibal hissed.

"Ohhhh," the Chief said. "I see. 'Insecurity is weakness'. You'd know quite a bit about that, wouldn't ya, _Lecter_."

The silence that occurred this time was lined with fear and Jason clapped his hands over his hockey mask. The General's body went rigid and his jaw clenched. Krueger slowly lowered his fedora over his face. Pennywise put his headphones back in. Carrie's lips twitched and Morgana watched Hannibal with rapt attention.

A wide smirk crossed Lecter's face as he placed his whiteboard marker down. He reached behind the whiteboard and then folded his hands behind his back. He made his way down the table silently, smirking, eyes wide and unblinking. He approached Samara and the two sized each other up.

"Please," she said, scowling. "I'm not afraid of you."

The General stood behind her and put one hand on her shoulder and then, raised his left hand to reveal a small blade, He leaned over her right shoulder and put his head next to hers, showing off the blade. The Chief's eyes were a bit larger.

"Oh but here's the thing, Chief," Hannibal purred. "You are."

"You won't kill me," she whispered. "I was the Colonel. I'm part of the Legion."

"You're right. But that doesn't mean I can't throw you into the snow, give you to the IMF, or leave you entrapped and starving for days at a time," the General said, still smiling. He twiddled the blade between his fingers. "It also doesn't mean that I can't leave you with...some reminders."

He took the tip of the blade and pressed it into Samara's cheek. She was beginning to physically shake.

"You gave up your rank as Colonel to her," Hannibal said. He looked over at Regan, who sunk beneath the table. "And deep down, you resent that decision."

"I'm happier being technology chief," Samara growled. She gasped as the tip of the blade moved downward and drew some dark red blood that clashed with her grey skin.

"Ah, yes. But you miss the power," the General said. "All of you resent each other over the amount of power each Legionnaire has, don't you?"

He spoke now to the whole table.

"You believe you should all be in charge of the Plan. But you aren't. Do you understand that? You aren't. I am. So I suggest you listen to me and you obey what I have to say or so help me-" He drew the blade away from Samara's bleeding cheek and straightened back up. "- I can make your lives more miserable than you can imagine. And I'll never have to lay a hand on you to do it. Do I make myself clear?"

A pause. And then, in one simultaneous voice, the monsters said- "Yes, General,"

Hannibal smiled and cleaned the blade with the collar of his blue jumpsuit before returning to the board. He winked at Morgana, who watched with an expression of both being impressed and disgusted.

"So. The plan. Secretary, if you would care to explain it?"

Carrie blinked to life, tearing her eyes away from Samara, who was still shaking. "Oh- oh, yeah, sure." She rose to her feet and smoothed her bloody dress. She faced the table. "The General organized a meeting with an alien supplier so that we can gain Carbonite at the same time we pick up our live cargo."

"Live cargo?" Morgana asked.

"We've made a purchase of twelve genetically enhanced creatures that will be aiding us in taking Charactia," Hannibal said. He was still playing with the knife. "Of course, only one of them is full grown but we will grow the rest of them here in the Hotel."

"And what are they, exactly?"

"All good things to those who wait," Hannibal said slyly.

"So anyway- before I was rudely interrupted," Carrie snapped at Morgana. "The supplier will be meeting four of us tomorrow on the planet Bespin. The General did a bunch of really boring math and stuff and decided that using the _Demme_, we should be able to drop those who will be doing the resurrection stuff and then be back in time to pick them up."

This sent a buzz of excitement up and down the table. The Captain squinted at the paper to make sure he had written down what was said correctly. Pennywise yanked his headphones out.

"Did you just say...Bespin?"

"Four of us get to go...to space?!" The Colonel Regan gasped, sitting upright. She grinned rotten teeth and began to jump up and down in her seat, shaking one of the Privates on her right. "Four of us get to go to SPACE!"

Krueger raised his eyebrows at Hannibal, who shrugged, smiling. He shook his head in disbelief, grinning. Morgana remained unimpressed. She raised a hand and the table quieted again.

"Yeah, honey?" Carrie sneered. "Don't know what space is?"

"Earlier today, before he decided to go somewhere called Green Mist, the Scout explained space to me. So don't assume I'm as stupid as you are," Morgana spat. "My question is...where exactly will this next resurrection be happening?"

"Germany," Hannibal said. "We managed to track the villain's gravesite to somewhere in Hamburg and we should be able to bring him back in less than a few hours. The intended time to begin digging is at 2 AM."

"Don't we need an electrical storm?" Leatherface asked.

"I think Lady Morgana should be able to handle that," Lecter grinned at her. "She's a woman of many talents, as we know. She supposedly once brought an entire army back from the dead."

"I _did_," Morgana said through her teeth and Krueger leaned over to her and whispered-

"I think that's terrific, by the way,"

"So let me get this straight," The Advisor straightened his tie and stood up. "The plan is to drop off you and whoever will be doing the next resurrection, dig up the grave, and bring him back from the dead. Meanwhile, four of us will just be up in space at Bespin, collecting the supplies, and then come back at the exact time that the resurrection is done."

"Yes, very good! Would you like a sticker?" Hannibal gasped sarcastically and a few people laughed.

"Why do we even need Carbonite if Morgana can bring him back with her powers?"

"Because if anything happens to Morgana, we can keep bringing back bad guys, duh," Samara said. She finally decided to wipe her cut and red was smeared across her cheekbone.

"So who gets to go to space?" Regan asked excitedly.

"Yeah! Who? Who?!" Jason piped up. And suddenly all of the Legionnaires were calling out for answers or begging- 'Me! Me!'. Some were pointing at themselves and rising to their feet and leaning over the table. Hannibal calmly raised a hand.

"The Secretary will be one of those heading to Bespin and she selected who will be accompanying her," Setting his knife on the whiteboard ledge, he picked up the red marker and began to write under the chart column that read "THE SECRETARY".

Underneath, he wrote- 'CARRIE, REGAN, MICHAEL, AND PINHEAD'.

"The Secretary, the Colonel, the Scout, and the Pilot will all be going," he said, turning back to face the table. "The Colonel is the highest ranking of all of you so she will oversee the mission. The Pilot will, of course, fly the _Demme_. And the Scout is trained in star navigation."

There was a stunned silence. The Pilot, a tall bald man with white skin, pins sticking out from his head, and wearing a long black leather robe and jacket, bit his bottom lip. He began to shake and made an excited squealing noise before suddenly fainting backwards. Regan jumped up.

"I'M GOING TO SPACE! I'M THE COLONEL NOW, BITCHES!" she screamed and stuck up both her middle fingers at the Chief. Samara sunk in her chair and covered her face with her hair.

A new buzz spread throughout the table. Quieter but agitated. Hannibal could pick out questions like- "Why them?" or "You have any idea how long I've waited to go to space?". There was quite a lot of whining, quite literally from the Hunter who was a large slobbering Saint Bernard dog lying on the floor next to the whiteboard.

"So if they're heading to space in a...ship of some kind," Morgana spoke up. "Then you will be heading off to...what was it?"

"Germany," Krueger said blankly. He had been watching Carrie scroll through her phone nonchalantly and there was an obvious bit of envy in his eyes. "It's in Europe. Near where you're from actually."

"Well if it's near where I'm from, why can't we take Camelot back now?" Morgana demanded.

"Because it's not there anymore," Hannibal explained.

"Perhaps it's hidden by magic!" Morgana suggested, sitting upright. "And you're too blind to see it!"

The General clenched and then unclenched his fists. He gave her a forced smile. "If Camelot was still standing, it would be a tourist attraction."

Morgana squinted. "Tourist attraction?"

"Oh geez, somebody give her a dictionary," Carrie groaned. "I can't deal with dumb questions like that on a regular basis." Hannibal hissed at her and she hunched over a bit, quieting down.

"We wouldn't have a large enough army to take Camelot even if it was still there," he told Morgana. "Which is why we're going to our supplier on Bespin. To help us build that army." He looked down the table at those who were still complaining and held up a hand. They silenced immediately.

Then, he turned and began to write on the board again. This time, he wrote seven names down under 'GERMANY'.

"Morgana, the Lieutenant, the Commander, the Chief, the Advisor, and I will be initiating the resurrection. The Server will be coming for extra security measures and because he should probably do something meaningful with his life for once."

"Alright! I won't be totally useless!" Ghostface cried. He high-fived Jigsaw.

"Meanwhile," Hannibal continued. "Here, I want the Tracker to continue his job and I want the Analyzers to monitor the _Demme_'s movements in the security room." the General explained. Chucky glanced over at another doll, this one with orange pigtails and an eerie permanent smile on her face, and the back again.

"I thought the security room was the Captain's duty,"

"Yeah, I thought that was my duty," the Captain muttered, still typing.

"Yes, well, I felt that the Analyzers haven't done enough as of late. The rest of you will continue your normal duties while we are gone. Any final questions?"

Nobody raised their hands.

"Excellent," Lecter said, licking his lips. "Please rise."

The entire table rose to their feet, including Morgana. The grin on Hannibal's face was chilling and cold, just as his voice was.

"I want to see all of your abilities used for the Plan. The act of using fear is what we were designed for. It's our purpose. If we use every power we've been given, this planet will be ours. So..." His eyes wide, his posture terrifyingly straight, he bent his arms in front of his chest, raising his right arm above the left one. "For the Legion."

Morgana watched as all of the monsters made the exact same salute with unfathomable expressions. They spoke, their voices perfectly in sync and in monotone.

"For the Legion,"

Hannibal's eyebrows bobbed at Morgana and glaring, she did the salute as well. Cujo howled from the floor. The General dropped his hands and the monsters did as well.

"Get to work, soldiers. Colonel, I'd like to speak you," he said. "Dismissed."

The monsters broke away from the table, collecting their things, whispering to each other. Some of them stormed out, like Samara. Some took a seat to most likely ask some more questions, like Krueger.

Regan, however, made her way past the table and to the General. Morgana watched her carefully and Regan stuck her tongue out at her. She greeted Hannibal and he went down on one knee, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I have another order for you," he whispered, turning her away from Morgana and the others.

"Name it,"

He reached into his jumpsuit and pulled out a small slip of folded paper. "When you reach Cloud City, I'd like you to hand this to our supplier. He'll give you a canister of it. Don't let the others see you,"

He handed her the paper and Regan unfolded it. On it was written one word in black ink: _Flazin_.

"What's Flazin?" she whispered. "And why do you need it?"

"You have an order, Colonel," Hannibal whispered. "Are you or are you not capable of completing it?"

Regan swallowed and tucked the paper into a pocket of her gown. "I am, sir,"

He patted her back and stood up. "Run along then,"

She nodded and ran off in the direction of the back elevators, her wild brown hair flying behind her. Lecter watched her, with his hands behind his back. Krueger stepped up beside him, brow furrowed.

"You know," he said, not looking at the General, "I heard that."

"I'm sure you did," Hannibal said, still staring at the spot Regan had run to. "Your senses are almost as good as mine."

"You're making a mistake,"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Seriously? Don't pretend like I didn't hear when you just confirmed that I did! I know what that was about! It's dangerous and-"

"Lieutenant, I want you to go do a check on the _Demme_ with the Pilot. Make a list, I'm sure you'll enjoy that," Hannibal said quietly.

"General, please, you need to lis-"

"That's an order," Lecter suddenly snapped, glaring up at Krueger. The Lieutenant gulped and his jaw tightened.

"Fine. Fine," he grumbled and turned. "Do whatever you want and ignore the consequences. It's what you're best at."

Hannibal watched him storm off towards the stairs, grabbing Pinhead by the arm and leading him away. The General glared and looked at the floor, his hands clenched into fists. His own jaw tightening, he turned to the white board and began to aggressively erase what he had written.

"You never tell him anything," Morgana's voice came behind him.

The anger in the General's chest broke and he froze from erasing and he swallowed. The sudden sound of her soft voice caused his body to relax a bit and he began to erase more calmly.

"I tell him what I think he needs to know," he said. "And he doesn't need to know everything."

Hannibal's eyes lingered on her name on the white-board, the only name he had not erased yet. He moved the eraser towards it but hesitated. She spoke behind him and his stomach did a strange, but satisfying somersault.

"Are you always so distrustful of each other?" she sneered.

The anger in his chest returned at the somersault feeling, a feeling he was now disgusted at. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe he was disgusted at her mockery, but she had a point. He shook his head slightly, as if mad at himself, and erased her name. He looked over at her and found himself inexplicably smirking.

"Welcome to the Legion,"

She squinted and then rolled her eyes. She spun on her heel and strode down past the tables towards the stairs, her chin raised. She marched up the stairs, pushing Pennywise and Jigsaw aside with mere glares, and left the Colorado Room.

Hannibal stood there silently, and watched her the entire way.


End file.
